#6of52

[ellehanson]

Winter wonderland. #6of52 #discoverwisconsin (at Devils Punchbowl) https://www.instagram.com/p/B9S_z3andQl/?igshid=1kx4qeabnv660

[ellehanson]

01.22.19 #waterfallwednesday #discoverwisconsin #6of52 (at Whitnall Park) https://www.instagram.com/p/Bs_wXAinBKB/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=wxvn866vjea

[lithanine]

Week 6: new construction on the east side of downtown. I'm fascinated by repurposed cargo containers; I'm keeping an eye on this site to see what it becomes. The poem for this week is an old one I've never shared before, but the theme is one that's been cropping up often in the past couple of weeks, so it felt appropriate to drag it out.

I wept, once, with wisps of willow watching nearby, their nice switches swinging rhythmic in the breeze, muddied up from my tumult of tears. I was sad, I suppose.

I wept, but I wiped the evidence away quickly. Smeared snot onto the hemline of my shirt, anything to escape the signs, pushing palms into my eyes, hoping pressure to kill the blotch of redness ringing me.

I wept, but won't know why, can't say, willing lost. Pushing palm pressure to sink the sadness down past the surface, the simmering undercurrents, into the freezing gut of me, like finding my troubles trapped in the ninth circle of hell. Daunting, the journey down.

I wept, then I awoke, not knowing where to go. How weird, this plague of sadness, how sudden this sullenness and strange, this wanton feeling without a home.

[lithanine]

Week 6: new construction on the east side of downtown. I'm fascinated by repurposed cargo containers; I'm keeping an eye on this site to see what it becomes. The poem for this week is an old one I've never shared before, but the theme is one that's been cropping up often in the past couple of weeks, so it felt appropriate to drag it out.

I wept, once, with wisps of willow watching nearby, their nice switches swinging rhythmic in the breeze, muddied up from my tumult of tears. I was sad, I suppose. I wept, but I wiped the evidence away quickly. Smeared snot onto the hemline of my shirt, anything to escape the signs, pushing palms into my eyes, hoping pressure to kill the blotch of redness ringing me. I wept, but won't know why, can't say, willing lost. Pushing palm pressure to sink the sadness down past the surface, the simmering undercurrents, into the freezing gut of me, like finding my troubles trapped in the ninth circle of hell. Daunting, the journey down. I wept, then I awoke, not knowing where to go. How weird, this plague of sadness, how sudden this sullenness and strange, this wanton feeling without a home.

I've been posting a photo and poem once a week to instagram since the beginning of the year, but I kept forgetting to post it to tumblr as well. Guess I'll backtrack and get them up here... for posterity? Sure, let's go with that.