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  October's Child

THE LIFE OF THINGS


THE LIFE OF THINGS



I lived for years in a broken-down barn
Where the sun visited only if it had a notion,
Which was sporadic

The noises around this weird abode
Were stunted voices, if you know
What I mean.

Voices written by the winds in many octaves
That had taken up residence at the foot of an oak
Which had long ago died

Winter sauntered in breathing full force
Me wearing raggedy old boots through the hellish blizzards
But I managed to still carry my candle,

The sun continued to play its games
Coming, going, hiding and teasing me
Into bouts of frustration

Finally, a voice came to me
"Please awaken now," it said
And I did, drinking coffee from a dented tin cup


SH
March 30th, 2019







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