Poetry – Winner

Mind Over Matter, by Adrienne Hahne

I’d been ill for months, hawking up phlegm,

off school nearly a year. It drove Mum nuts.

They’d added a sunroom to our house.

I’d been moved there for the light,

repotted like a plant, chlorophyll starved.


Housebound, cocooned in cushions on the couch,

boredom stifled my mind.

I complained, non-stop, forced to stay put.

A therapist was called in “You can’t go out,”

she said, “but you can leave in your head.”


I thought she was mad.


“Shut your eyes, trace a track and see where it leads.”

I tried and it worked.

I skipped up a path of feathery bush,

glistening ferns unfolded, bowed to make room.

Bell birds broke in with sharp song,

the cacophony of frogs keen to mate,

as they plop into ponds.


I etched butterflies in sand, sniffed flowers,

turned up life under stones,

wrote poems, webbed tales, whistled tunes.

Bees hummed along,

joined the fun.


I pocketed these scenes.

Even now

bring them out when I’m down.