Look at Me, Here – a poem by Elisabeth Horan

Look at Me, Here

Must get up
Get out of bed
Eat the food
Do the things
Be… Here.

See one yellow banded
Amethyst skyline
Twilight, her heavenly skylight
Does twinkle, diamond-eyed

In a powder keg
In a January dusky
Musical – intermission bell

Icicle eyelashes coyly suggest
Transparent underthings
Flapping – look at me –
Over here, don’t worry

I’m not Lucifer
I’m extremely pretty
Poised over dirty, naked trees
Long suffering snowbanks
Cut, halved at the knees.

I’m pretending.
To be from a postcard
To those places I never
Went in my youth

But in my head and
On this day
I am there
But I am here

Look at me
Out of bed
And, here. Here. Here.

Elisabeth Horan enjoys talking with animals and listening in the woods. Her poetry aspires to give a voice to Mother Earth and her children, as well those kindred souls who may be suffering alone and in pain – especially those suffering with mental illness. She has recently been featured at TERSE. Journal, Anti-Heroin Chic, Quail Bell Magazine and Milk & Beans.  Elisabeth teaches English at River Valley Community College in New Hampshire.

ejfhoran@weebly.com follow @ehoranpoet.


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