Lost

The cloud has come again, the prairie fire
Smoke, and all is wrapped in darkness.
That is what I see. The pills, it seems,
No longer work. The faint pinpricks
Of light, recalled, unfelt, are far off in
The sky: that precious woman and
Her love, the gently swaying summer
Trees, the voices of the ones who want
Me here as I consider leaving. What
Could be is suffocated, what was,
Ashes from the flames. I'm teary-eyed
And blinded, wanting nothing more
Than to lay down. The prairie fire's
Smoke has come again.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 65 times
Written on 2015-08-13 at 23:45

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