Tonight's Poet Corner: Sonnet Solstice #316
My Throat Constricts
by Belinda Roddie
My throat constricts as the autumn air turns
to dust, my breath in short bursts from my lips.
I wish I could just stop - it stings and burns
to inhale and exhale. Even the sips
of water I consume, like liquid fire,
chars my esophagus in a stampede
of heat and discomfort. When I retire
to my bed, the pain easily impedes
my ability to sleep. I don't know
why my body rejects natural things -
the wind, the trees, the rivers that still flow
beyond my window, the birds that still sing.
Their music digs into my ears like teeth,
persisting as I live and try to breathe.
by Belinda Roddie
My throat constricts as the autumn air turns
to dust, my breath in short bursts from my lips.
I wish I could just stop - it stings and burns
to inhale and exhale. Even the sips
of water I consume, like liquid fire,
chars my esophagus in a stampede
of heat and discomfort. When I retire
to my bed, the pain easily impedes
my ability to sleep. I don't know
why my body rejects natural things -
the wind, the trees, the rivers that still flow
beyond my window, the birds that still sing.
Their music digs into my ears like teeth,
persisting as I live and try to breathe.
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