Walking Through Lonely

Morning breaks, but not into song
as a heavy sense of dreary 
seems to hang 
motionless in the air
and the mist wraps a little tighter 
around my heart.

The trees carry on a conversation
on the edge
of a dwindling horizon.
I see them gathered in the shadows
close enough to know they’re there
but too far to be included.  
Seems like my life.

I gather shore grasses 
as the silence 
drowns out the sound
of water trickling down my face
and the mist wraps a little tighter
around my heart.




february 2006
Janet Reid



  
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