The Pall


Trying to tap into some


Trying to find

one other reason

to care.

Trying to sail away

on a quiet ocean,

to no avail.


Some days

I open my eyes;


Sometimes the words

clamour for the page.


there are days

bereft of anything.

Nothing stirring

on my pathways.


There is no comfort

in the absence.

There is no joy

in the pall.

A shifting sky

of grey denials,

and no reason

for anything

at all.


HG – 2020

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