Swan Lake Poem by Nicole DeLima

Thoughts of you through Manitoba
Nestled between bales of hay
Lost down endless dirt roads
and miles of empty highway.

Whatever you hold onto dies.

Feeling alone yet surrounded
By relatives no less.
Sorrow invades my consciousness.
Tomorrow,29 - an awkward age indeed
And evidently I am judged by those around me.

But it's not about age - I just don't fit.
I'm an odd person and that's all there is to it.
Still I go on, but for how much longer?
I know I'd be free if I could only let go of Mother.

Let's sit once more on that bench in the park
And take this life with a grain of salt.
Let's lie one last time in a bath in the dark.
Please tell her it isn't her fault.

(July 2005)