Thread: Remembering

The extra meals are put to use
as she fumbles her way through sprints.

While people are starving,
she pants and sweats,
swearing at the cold air.

Underneath that pallid flesh
and old being lurks.
It knows how to find berries,
set snares,
and revel in the rain.

Carefully cultivated fat
remembers how to fuel,
and slowly she no longer regrets
the aching, lingering burn

Her body longs to forage,
to build shelter from raw trees
and fragrant dirt,
to exist as it was always meant to.

As the outside melts away,
the mind follows -
desires dirty hands
and the bruised knees of childhood.

I enjoy this poem, mostly, but it loses me. I want something of more specific details to help make her story, which feels interesting, make any sense.The story, as it currently manifests in my mind, is this:

"There's an overweight woman who is trying to work out. Some vestigial part of her wants to be a hunter-gatherer. And wants to be a child."

If that's the case, I like it, but would love to see it developed even further. If it's not the case: well, you lost me. Do you have any specific questions about the piece for me?

I enjoyed this one Damien. I completely understand what you are going for here and must admit, I've felt the same longing to be as we once were and to use the body as it was designed to be used. I'm currently hard at work creating a vegetable garden and that may be why I identify with this one so well.