Returning volunteer, Chloë Morgan, shares her beautiful poem: NoSomewhere
The world seems to have
stopped.
It started to s l o w d o w n,
but now it’s speeding
up. It’s hard to tell, really.
Everyone’s losing it a little.
Trapped in the
middle
of nowhere.
It was somewhere.
Somewhere important, in fact.
Somewhere
the hustle and bustle stopped.
Somewhere
rush hour no longer rushed.
Somewhere
that was peaceful.
Straight into that chair and
f
a
l
l
i
n
g
asleep.
Dragging your body into bed and
sleeping deeply. Peacefully. Ready
for another busy day. Buzzing
for those evening meals, taking
to the table with many guests to forget
the day that had just happened, or
the one ahead. Having fun full
to the brim with food, falling
onto the sofa to watch
Friends or the footy.
But now,
that somewhere
is not important.
That somewhere
has been overused.
That chair
has been oversat on.
That bed
has been overslept in.
That table
has been overeaten at.
That TV
has been overwatched,
waiting for an announcement
…that isn’t coming?
Featured image by: Frankie Stevens
