Too empty

   my heart

The absence of whole–

The misery of which

   consumes my soul.

 

This sorrow

   my eyes,

A sadness to see.

If tears were but diamonds

   how rich I would be.

 

If only what is

   were what is to be,

In a world of infinite impossibility.

But only a shadow

   of maybe or if:

     a poor lost lamb

   on the edge of a cliff,

     staring down upon

   the angry sea—

     a wolf of grave indifference

   bearing down on me.

 

 

Summer 2007