The Poetry Club

It’s not the storms that bring me down,

But sudden noise or violent sound

A cupboard slams, the coffee spills,

And I’m back among the distant hills.

A car backfires, an angry tone,

And I’m no longer here alone.

The past comes rushing, sharp and fast,

The present’s gone, the moment’s passed.

A shadow moves, my heartbeat climbs,

I’m trapped inside those other times.

So small the spark, yet fierce the flame,

It calls me back and speaks my name.

By Janet Bosson

#TheSpark

#poem

#PTSDawareness