Seeing things

My eyes limit me

I am looking for a new way

to see

in this calm place

I am inside

different heads

can rub up

against new skin

probe strange wounds

dip into a

pool of memories

not mine

the ceiling is low

but I don’t bang

my head

it smells

of work

in here

things made

by hand

I like this

can I follow

their lead?

sculpt thoughts

carve words

into a new shape

I wrote this poem as part of my ongoing Cafe Poet in Residency at c3 Contemporary Art Space, at the Abbotsford Convent. It's currently part of an exhibition titled: Ecosystem, an exploration of the Abbotsford Convent Community.