Whenever I feel loss or lack, I imagine
The wind roaming outside of my childhood’s lair
—as I am a child again, with my red knapsack
bouncing lightly on my back—
Beckoning me to run to it, into its slurry white expanse . . .
And in my heart, I am already on my way
To some thrilling future
Which is not yet weak and diluted with a lonely pain.
There, I am someone who wishes to be
An exception and I am. A third and ringing note
Edges the banal alternatives of
Yes, and No. A lyric possibility rises
Everywhere and at once, a thousand roses—allusive, corrosive.
Think how much you must change. Even more than you dare.
Copyright © 2023 by Sandra Lim. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on May 1, 2023, by the Academy of American Poets.