Concrete Ground

by Anne H. Bakke

It’s that bitter taste
again
it comes and goes like the seasons; the sun and the moon; the rain and the sky; the wind and the stillness.
It’s windy out here,
in the cold
in the open
so fragile
I am
out here
Does it ever stop
that feeling,
I ask.
Yes,
you answer, when you are dead. You tell me.
But why does it have to hurt, I ask you again.
You smile.
No, it doesn’t always hurt, I tell myself.

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Anne H. Bakke is from Norway, and currently studying European studies at the Norwegian University of Science and Technology.