POLYSEMY
- 7 days ago
- 1 min read
By Alex Padina
Under the pressing wind
I wondered about polysemic words,
and how they guide the train of thought.
Seemingly unrelated vocables
sharing the same whispered air,
the same shape in their invisible sound waves,
despite their different roots.
I saw a gigantic mass of clouds:
A shadowy, sinister flock of billows,
slowly taking over the blue sky.
And despite
the threat of heavy rains,
I felt light.
My mind suddenly shifted
to a future memory—
one of doctors and pain,
which perhaps always, and never, happened:
“The tests show a large mass.”
The doctor doesn’t need to add the C word;
In the same way, I didn’t need God
when I used to go to Mass.
The mass is dark enough.
It’s at the heart—
a shadow that runs the tide.
The titanic cloud came down on me,
like a grave cancer,
like bright angels,
like a dark choir.
And then, it hit me like a cold wave:
Wave, a movement of water (The waves crashed against the shore).
Wave, a hand gesture (God gave a wave before leaving).
Wave, a surge or movement (A wave of sadness swept over me).