Here's poem #5 of 30 in my November poetry challenge. My goal is to write 30 poems in 30 days. This particular poem makes more sense if you know that I'm part of a historical recreation group that works with the Middle Ages and Renaissance. We periodically have camping events where everyone dresses up in the clothing of the time, and loses themselves in a past that never was. It really is a moment out of time, to be savored.
Anyway, the poem:
Uncivilized Cravings
It is 2:30 am and I sit
in my monitor lit
room, safe behind curtains,
civilized,
listening to the monotonous
electronic hum.
Reading your distant words.
Browsing the internet.
Fingers on my keyboard,
touching only virtual
connections.
Quiet. Detached.
A bit bored
and rather passionless.
I need
a different 2:30 night.
I want to watch wood smoke
rising from a flickering camp fire,
drifting up to a deep moonless sky.
I need drums in the distance,
and song, and laughter,
enough that I can close my eyes
and feel the humanity
humming around me.
I want to explore the vibrant shadows,
prowling the darkened pathways
that reach between
glowing circles of cheer.
And I want a cloak big enough for two
wrapped round, warm
against the crisp blowing breeze.
And I want your
hands.
Here.
In my dark
and very uncivilized
night.
-Melissa McCollum
11/5/2010
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