Rebirth from reservation

• Stephanie Mok, Grade 12
• Poetry
• 2004

Fingers fasten to iron bars, like
Vines wringing a dying tree.
She clutches the bolted bed,
Dreading the absence of its cold skin.

She could awaken.
Tear nerves loose, let
Sweat streak her hidden face.
Stretch to touch the dancing irises
Outside her double-paned window.
Be blown by the unruly universe,
Fall headfirst into a swirling fusion of
Distorted bodies and boundless thoughts.

Yet--fear frosted her windows blind.
Suffering slammed shut her ears.
Breathing the outside air, would only
Drown her.