Thursday, February 23, 2017

The in between

 the cold rain kisses my cheeks as I come to the car
chill fingers fumbling with the key
 I cannot inject into the locks
 cold yet not cold enough to freeze
 we face too many choices but none so stark
as life and death
more like out-of-season gnats
nipping at fingers and toes
 that saps the consciousness and drains me
for when the serious issues come
this change of season
this mood of death
is hope for rebirth coming
as the world arrives at its darkest hour
and we shiver through it all
a stumbling mass of petty confusion
we cannot escape
aching for the clear choices
the definite division between
good or evil
right or wrong
 happy or sad
but that's not real life

 it is always things in between 

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