Imprinting Place
How to hold a memory
I sing to the wood,
The wind and the sand.
I sing to my cells and my
Heart,
It’s a command.
I imprint the feeling,
Pain relief better than
Opioid dealing.
Coming out of a trauma
Or out of love
Orgasmic dripping drama
I sing to the moment
I sing to my muse
To myself as atonement
Time traveling echos
Vibrating re-ordering of matter
A song bird in ghettos
I sing to quite the chatter.


The power of art to heal. Beautiful poem Freeta. You look like you’re off to the North Pole.