Laughing at the Sky

Someone’s set

my soul loose; I can’t get her

back. She’s out there, dancing

wildly, wonderfully released.

Prior craziness now

seems justified—those midnight

escapades to the underworld,

hoping (like Persephone)

to be rid of earthly chores;

the foolhardy fearlessness

that bared its teeth at friend

and foe alike: all symptoms

of an overheated heart,

surging upward

like a volcano, spitting

out sparks and toxic fumes

from a core of molten energy,

the creative source within.

It’s like a cat that hates

to be controlled, an apostate

of the religion of Busy,

or an unbridled horse, just

released from a comfortless

corral, kicking off

her shoes, dashing around

the room in giddy circles.

No way to quell this eruption,

no higher command

or Olympian pronouncement:

my Muse won’t come when called.

BIO

Alison Jennings is a Seattle-based poet who taught in public schools before returning to poetry. She has

had a mini-chapbook and over 100 poems published in numerous journals—including Cathexis Northwest Press, Mslexia, Poetic Sun, Red Door, and Society of Classical Poets—and been a semi-finalist in several

contests. https://sites.google.com/view/airandfirepoet/home