The Clutching Hand

The Clutching Hand

She liked to think of herself as
Dorothy, jumping over the rainbow
Yet all she jumped over were
Puddles, glistening murkily after it rained
And when she looked in the mirror,
She only saw the small girl weeping
Dressed in a white wedding gown,
Green, gnarled ribbons tangled in her hair

She grew to be a fine woman, eyes always glistening
With life, or tears? And her laugh
Loud and brawny, as if washing away all worries
And thoughts.
She sobbed in the nights, tears soaking her pillows
But the doctors said she would be O.K.
She was slowly burning, they said,
But out of the flames would rise something new

One day she saw Him; for real, not just in her churning dreams
Like an angel, He rose, a demon at His side
And down she fell, as a jade monster rose
Clutched at her, and chewed up her heart
I love You, she screamed at the monster, and it shriveled
And then all went black, and she was home again
Staring up at a flickering ceiling
And He wasn’t really all that… he wasn’t really all that.

She still jumped over puddles, but sometimes walked through them
She told herself that rainbows weren’t real
Bitter tears fell down her wrinkled cheeks,
And she shook them away like rain
She stared out of her nursing home window at the brown parking lot
And saw death lurking on the streets, beckoning
Wait! She cried. Wait, I need more time!

But it was wasted.
And she fell back into the natural order of things.

~Chloe