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Poetry

In the Middle of

A half night of sleep.  Solid thoughts you can’t weep.

Conversations with regret.

Morning joy cometh,

  But- just- not -yet.

These hours are preset,

For wishing to forget,

For the letting up of memories that just don’t let.

For the wishing of sunrise’s erasure powers.

For the abandonment of thick

Pre-dawn hours.

For the lonesome strolls down memory lane

You walk, you walk.  Again. Again.

Then I hope to remind you while on that lane.

That even the pain of living,

 is living the same.  

Copyright © 2012 Nichelle Calhoun

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About New World Nubian

Introspective, Reflective, A Set of Paradoxes, Musical, Creative, and Curious.

Discussion

One thought on “In the Middle of

  1. Fortunately your great poetic talent walks with you and keeps you company 24/7

    Posted by gladiuspoeticus | July 5, 2012, 1:47 am

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