WeSocialWork

I need to go to sleep.

My mind won’t let me.

The minutes slip away

and night escapes,

This should be peaceful.

The AC hums through a

muggy Florida night.

The dog snores blissfully,

his face pressed between

my shoulder blades.

And the dark creates

a cocoon where I

can float,

Untethered from the

person that I am during

the day.

I spend the day talking.

I spend the day gathering

the fears and thoughts

and dreams of the hopeful

The tears and thoughts

and fears of the hopeless.

I spin these into cords

that they can use

to find a way to climb out.

But at night, the wheel

hums for me.

I get up and spin

on my own back porch.

I have to find my own

way of never-ending

escape.

This work is quiet

And sometimes

lonely.

I had a friend

once.

She also worked

through the night,

spinning her own path

to peace and calm

and self.

I could hear her wheel

humming across the way,

from her own back porch,

the treadle creaking

with effort.

We’d call out from time

to time

To see how the work

was going

to see if skeins were

piling up.

To see if the other

was okay.

But mostly, we’d spin

in friendly silence.

It was enough to know that

someone was there.

Until they were not.

And the silence is

so loud

now.

And I spin through

the early hours

alone.

And the other wheel

sits empty.

~ by Dr. Gina Griffin, DSW, MSW, LCSW