I’ve been having some trouble sleeping lately – too many thoughts racing around in my head. Why does that happen at 2 am? I chose this poem because of the first line. Funny how thinking is so quiet on the outside and sometimes so frantic inside.
A Quiet Skin – by Laurie Sheck
Thinking has a quiet skin. But I feel the break and fled of things inside it.
Blue hills most gentle in calm light, then stretches of assail.
And ransack. Such tangles of charred wreckage, sharpnel-bits
Singling and singeing where they fall. I feel the stumbling gait of what I am,
The quiet uproar of undone, how to be hidden is a tempting, violent thing—
Each thought breaking always in another.
All the unlawful elsewhere rushing in.