From June to June I don't know who I am,
though I walk the old familiar paths,
tracing and retracing into muscle and sinew
Who are you?
Who are you?
Who are you?
I am a Pokemon hunter
with chronic illness and no car, no invisibility
cloak to protect me.
I am a daughter, but not a mother.
I am a Queen of this,
but not that.
I am a traveller who stays still for so long
she forgets she once walked
among Inukshuk, and between redwoods.
I am a reader who ceased to read.
Instead, I watch a bright screen move me
while my eyes and brain exchange
the same, tired greeting
Here again?
Here again.
Here. Again.
A muntjac looked across the field
at me, not trusting the scent of me.
We share this earth so cautiously.
(c) Shaista Tayabali, 2020
prompt from Dverse Poets, ('What day is it anyway?'); image from Wildlife Watch: Forest of Dean
inspiration: my friend Helena, who walked in the garden with me, sunshine on our faces, muntjac footprints beneath our feet, and the wild world of hope blinking in the possibilities (Helena reminds me... I keep forgetting, am too tired, too sick, gripped by infections and fibromyalgia.)
