Today's poem is by Tina Schumann

Poem in Which I Become My Own Fairytale
       

The quiet grew like a green stem
        from my left ear.
Static radio signals waved in
        from across an ocean.
Tiny tin voices sent
        murky messages.
Maybe it was a song,
        incantation or spell. I couldn't tell.
I worried the tiny people needed me.
        I was their giant, their Gulliver.
Yes, I was tied to stakes
        on a high green hill.
I could no longer float from village to village
        or keep pace with the story line.
The stem kept growing — thicker and greener.
I admit, I kind of loved the stakes,
        the soft ribbons
of restraint, the cool grass at my back.
        The tiny people waving
at me from their station in the tower.

Copyright © 2025 Tina Schumann All rights reserved
from Boneyard Heresies
Moon City Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission