Spiraling

I walk endless circles through the neighborhoods, 
Trying to find new streets, new paths,
because at least when I’m moving I’m going somewhere
Even if I always end up back home.
And all the walkers greet each other hurriedly,
Brushing past six feet apart, and I imagine
Or maybe I know
That they have this same desperation, this same urge
To fool themselves into thinking they’re going somewhere.
I feel like the Ugly Duckling
In that part of the story where he’s swimming 
Around and around in a pond that’s freezing over
And his frenzied circles are all that’s keeping the ice at bay.
And I’m hoping spring comes before the ice conquers everything
And pins my feet in place.

Elena Lee, ‘23
Swarthmore College