Wild stream

© Zdena Middernacht 2017

She looks me in the eye with a look that seems invasive
‘Tell me how you feel?’ she asks
I say ‘I don’t know.’ trying to see what she’s writing in her book
Wondering if I should quickly think of a word, any word
It doesn’t come to me.

She gives me some paper, says I should draw something
‘I can’t draw in pictures, I can only draw in letters’
She tells me to draw in letters how I feel
I can’t find the word in the languages I know.

Do all feelings have a name?
Those wild streams in the mountains,
How come they don’t have names?

I feel like that wild stream in the mountain
Not just any stream,
Just that one in Zonza from three summers ago
If you can find its name
I can draw it for you.