Martha Rhodes

What’s in the air, what’s stalking me that wasn’t there, until at 3, just as the wind picked up that barn and settled it onto another’s farm— or did I dream this malevolency—

Admittedly, I’m out of sorts, and all this week I’ve wanted to lash out at those who speak as if there’s nothing—Don’t be alarmed. It’s a gentle day, you won’t be harmed—

it’s in your mind, you’ve never been happy— Those who know nothing say that to me? There’s an evil out there. The air’s no balm. Stop trying to soothe me. I won’t be calmed. A gentle day? I won’t be harmed?