A Quarantined Mind

I’m stuck in here, a purple-painted box,
Eyes locked on that illuminated grate,
except my mind is waiting by the docks.

Look skyward now, and you’ll soon see the hawks
There’s none? Oh maybe I’m not thinking straight
I’m stuck in here, a purple-painted box.

I hear the ticking of two silent clocks,
whose cadence fast becomes my steady gait
I see my mind there waiting by the docks.

Is it the day we see the crimson fox?
Alone inside I know I have to wait
I’m stuck in here, a purple-painted box.

A leash tied on for the infrequent walks
I pull and pull, with sunlight as my bait
I know my mind is waiting by the docks.

I run, but wait here comes the swollen flocks!
Let’s see how long I can support their weight.
I’m stuck in here, a purple-painted box,
except my mind is waiting by the docks.

By Olivia O’Donnell

Biography:

Olivia O’Donnell is a junior at Sidwell Friends School in Washington, DC. She is an emerging poet.