Redwood
Poetry

Time, Trapped

Eva Fostovsky-Geckeler

December 2022
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The other day I had my last run-in with that pesky exercise ball
It floated around the room 
Like an old woman lost in thought 
Restless with untapped energy
Of which I was reminded only when someone else tapped it
Like a dress I owned 
But left the tags on  
Always for the future, for the future 

It often ended up in the closet
A banana peel on my way in
On my way out 
And yet it remained
And remained 
Always for the future, for the future 

Never have I been so stuck in a loop
I’m usually so ruthless 
But its familiarity made the thought of deflating it unthinkable 
I didn’t want to have to shove the toothpaste back into its tube
I didn’t want to need it and not have it 
In the future, in the future 

But one day I summoned all my strength 
I yanked 
And yanked
And finally 
Out came the plastic plug
I stared as the rubbery breeze washed over me

It was the fourteenth of March
Wait no, the fifteenth
Must have been June
Or perhaps even November
I was being absurd
It was all those days at once

Indeed it was time, trapped
Old me, so small with ocean-sized dreams, trapped 
The very same air that I pumped in after that thrilling purchase 
The air that got the two of us here
But now I can use it to breathe 

I do this for my future, for my future

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