• leaflet

    . . .a thin triangular flap of a heart valve. . . a small book usually having a paper cover . . . a medical lit-art e-journal from The Permanente Press
  • 1

Domus

Poetry, Vol 6: Iss 2

A wavering light dances
on lavender shrubs outside of the Spanish-style windows
in the room 
of my living.

I smell jasmine
and 
see vines. 
They sway back and forth in a divine synchronicity 
with multicolored leaves
and 
grey moss on oak trees 
visible
in the distance.

They commune 
with a warm breeze. 
I feel it through the crevices of freedom in the screen door;
a gift to me.

I sit by it 
and wonder sometimes
if the winds carry a profound wisdom that
escapes
the somatic and cognitive experience of my being
here.

Sometimes
I envy
the trees—
arrogant, proud,
upright,
confident.

I wonder sometimes
if they mock me—
surrounded by weeds and poppies—
do they laugh at my sickness
my illness
my choice?

a choice? a fear? 
to be afraid
agoraphobic
depressed
isolated
alone
entrapped, anxious, and embarrassed
panicked
panicking
yet
coveting
the simplicity of 
being

outside

 



In Ancient Rome domus was an elaborate house often occupied by wealthy people. I decided to use the term as the title of my poem for several reasons: 1) the fall of Rome was due in part to the loss of civility and the declining health of the populace; 2) the wealth of the empire did not protect its citizens from collapse; and 3) for many wealthy Romans, what was once an opulent lifestyle and home ultimately became a prison. These three premises seemed to provide a context for the life and story of the fore-noted gentleman. So, I thought it fitting.

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