Poem January 29, 2007 Issue

FOR TEENS

the report

Erin Deyerle

how funny
to feel so separated from You
when I know I'm not.
to sense that the buzzing mind is
foreign,
and yet hesitate to banish it.
why
this hold,
this immobility,
this sense of icy drift           away?
who has any power to
convince me of it?

what,
was         I          thinking?

no, it's
just static
that fades out as I focus on the
right frequency,
and where the din was,
peace is,
and joy,
"a still, small voice"
reporting.

—Erin Deyerle

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