Sunday morning in June...




The rain is splashing down
from grey clouds all around.
Soaking everything in sight,
leaving puddles of water
as markers for its sorrow.

Its neither hot nor cold,
but the weeds will love this:
Will grow ferociously thick.
And the hedge will sprout
new expectant growth.

The electricity flickers
on and off, off and on –
Man’s usual disability
to maintain sustainability
in this his broken new world.

It is no good me thinking
that it is nonseasonal,
that it is unreasonable,
That it is plain and simple ‘wrong’ –
I can only be the observer.

I have long since seen
that there is nowhere to hide:
Nowhere in this World where
I could escape my reality.
It is put up and shut up time.

I’m approaching eighty years
and this morning’s feeling
is only ‘sad’ because I know
I have felt this way before:
This sensational chill and damp.

The sense of Worldly sadness;
The sense we’re marking time
with tired legs stomping
on the saturated Earth
but no longer moving forward.

It is a cycle in which we’re trapped
time in which we’re handicapped.


© Griffonner 2022

Poetry by Griffonner The PoetBay support member heart!
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Written on 2022-07-04 at 00:02

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Kee Zealy
There is more to this than meets the eye. Well written.

Editorial Team The PoetBay support member heart!
Congratulations! Your poem has been chosen to be featured on our home page by a fellow member of PoetBay. Thank you for posting on our poetry website!

Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
This is a fine, melancholy poem. Upon rereading it, I found reasons for optimism. Yes, we are aging, and our species is destructive, but the world as a whole, with its weeds and hedges, goes on.

one trick pony The PoetBay support member heart!
This is a fine expression, acknowledgment, of the state of the planet, that after near eighty years all the dreams and hope have come to little more than a "broken new world."

I do envy your rain and moderate temperatures, though "rain" and "sorrow" do weigh heavily when you're living with it too long.

This is wonderful, real, writing. I'm nodding as I read it, concurring, appreciating your thoughts.


John holliday
Really deep and well written, I empathise a lot with your of my loves is playing the blues and singing, usually stream of conciousness words....just wondering if you play or sing ?.....maybe I could try singing your words ....only with your permission of course plus you get full credit as the writer...