Ursula Waking

Jesse Doiron

 May 9, 2021

Sweet Ursula wakes warm as milk this morn              

From dreams, adrift upon the true sublime,                 

All bundled up like some forlorn unborn,                   

afloat within a fetal mindless time.                              

She hesitates her eyes to un-crossed climb                  

From focused snout to harsh and rock-bound light.    

A swarm of bees buzz eerily off-rhyme,                     

While birds bring in their singing out of sight.           

Poor Ursula, confused just who is right,                      

Passes a paw across her muzzy nose,                          

Gives moan to groan and grumbles in her plight.       

(The neighbor bears nearby are still a doze.)              

Thus, with her winter-ragged coat undone,                 

Sweet Ursula now stumbles into sun.

Jesse Doiron spent 13 years overseas in countries where he often felt as if he were a “thing” that had human qualities but couldn’t communicate them. He teaches college, now, to people a third his age. He still feels, often, as if he is a “thing” that has human qualities but can’t communicate them.