The Feverish Child, poetry by Sandy Rochelle at Spillwords.com

The Feverish Child

The Feverish Child

written by: Sandy Rochelle

 

I slept as a feverish child as you surrounded me in a bed big enough for an elephant.
Touching my head- holding and nurturing me.
You were palpable.
I chatted incoherently.
You seemed to understand my ramblings.
I heard WW2 planes overhead.
And heard the voice of James Stewart as if he was you.
You placed a cloth on my brow.
Your voice became a shared anthem.
I heard you – saw you and felt you.
My sleep was one that reversed time and place.
We changed our lives as we turned base metal into gold.
I moaned as you held me and led me back to a past long gone.
I slept in a feverish pursuit of life before time.
I rolled from side to side and you pampered me.
My face red – my body useless.
My life not in my control.
What is this alchemy.
Where do I belong.
On this side of eternity.

Sandy Rochelle

Sandy Rochelle

Sandy Rochelle is an award winning poet-actress and filmmaker. Her poems have appeared in: Visions International, Writing in a Woman's Voice, Ekphrastic Review, Backchannel Journal, Every Day Writer, Wild Word, Impspired, Amethyst Review, Moon Shadow Sanctuary Press, Finishing Line Press and others. She is the recipient of the Autism Society of America's Literary Achievement Award -as her son, David, is autistic and deaf. Her Documentary film: Silent Journey is streaming on Culture Unplugged.
Sandy Rochelle

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