Are You Receiving Me?
I must’ve missed the memo. The one with the evacuation routes. How am I going to get out of here alive? I’m usually the last to know, anyway. I watch the clock for clues, but my hands keep spinning backwards. It’s like seeing your life in reverse. Oh, what I wouldn’t give for a decent hamburger about now. You keep telling me to stop dreaming and get real, whatever that means. I’ve painted sonnets on the moon. My symphonies are soundless. I’ve even danced without moving a muscle. I don’t know why I still listen to you. After all, you’re the one who pulls the stars from the sky.
Robin Shepard
Robin Shepard has been variously a teacher, journalist, public information officer, and fundraiser. He's retired from community college administration and spends his time working on cars and fishing, both of which are spiritual pursuits. He earned an MFA in Writing from Vermont College of Fine Arts and has authored two books: Quiet Stars Falling into Quicksand Memory (2017) and The Restoration of Innocence {2022). His work can be found in MacQueen's Quinterly, Compass Rose Literary Journal, Poetry Super Highway, Rat's Ass Literary Review, Quibble, Ghost City Review, Bombfire, and Beatnik Cowboy. But he's most proud of editing an award-winning Studebaker club newsletter.
Ah, the bewilderment that borders on angst here is palatable and the willingness for one to follow their own path made manifest. I believe these types of things grab hold of me because I too can relate.