Wake up
stone dead.
Another apostle
of the indifferent dark.
Heaven,
a receding dream,
but it looked so real.
Funny how yesterday
always gets remembered
without the pain.
We don’t catalogue injury,
that’s why we go back to it.
Play my cards,
like an old, great game.
Put them in my spokes
to give my inner child a way
to smile through the night
and gird me through the day.
It isn’t enough
to be tough anymore;
you’ve got to know your pain.
Sit up,
half dead,
head in my hands again,
plans up in smoke again,
but my mind is clear.
The weight may be heavy,
but the wait ain’t very long.
These days
are running through my hands
like water from the pond.
Burned a whole life away,
still have some to go,
my mind’s alive
with things I don’t want to know.
Stand up.
Look around
and make a move.
There’s no time
to sit around
taking in the view.
It’s not your life
anymore,
people depend on you.
Just a stone’s throw
from the grave,
I know,
but I’ve still got a lot to do.
What about you?
HG – 2021
