When I awake
my bed is crowded
full of lists, bills, appointments,
pushing me over the edge.
When I dress I wear my hat
to shade my eyes from the dishes
flocking in the sink,
the laundry swelling
in the hallway.
When I am alone
I walk past my closet
full of things wanted,
unwanted.
Those ghosts
keep me company.
When I’m buried
in my work, in my family,
I can forget the marble
growing in my breast.
When I lay in bed,
before I go to sleep,
I count the raindrops.
Impossible.
Joelle Hannah lives in Moorpark, California with her husband and five children. She teaches at Moorpark College. Joelle has been writing and performing poetry since 2005. Her poems have appeared in The Scribbler, The Night Goes On All Night, Bridges of Fate Anthology, Chaparral, Two Words For, Mothers Always Write and Where I Live. Joelle has performed in various venues throughout Ventura, Santa Barbara, and Los Angeles Counties, including Hollywood Book Fair, Artist Union Gallery, and Personal Stories II.