(Poem 113 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

A black and white image slowly
forms in developing solution.  
A woman emerges with unkempt
hair and the same gown she’s
been wearing for several days.
The dampness permeating her
garments and droplets beading
on her hair clue her in that she is
standing outside in the elements.
She was meant to be completing
a task, doing something important.
Awareness dawns that she has
not been well for a while now,
how long is undetermined, vague,
but the lifting fog begins to reveal
color, just hints of expression,
a reminder that there is life
beyond the slog of slow-motion
survival she has been swimming
through indefinitely unmoored.
The awakening is gradual, subtle,
and incremental, yet essential.

@Home Studio – 113^th poem of the year