A Confession Poem
this is something
i've never told anyone but first let me tell you
about the mornings the air is cold and crisp
the sky over New
Mexico a clear blue like your eyes
i look out & i am
reminded of you the heart inside my breast shrivels
i am waiting for
what you ask that i cannot say
for i know you will
not return perhaps it is for a sign of some kind
still i am
waiting it has been nearly twenty years now
like the french
lieutenant's woman a lonely figure looking to sea
instead a lonely
figure on the mesa looking to the desert
each day almost the
mirror image of the day before up early
coffee hot with
steam circling the cup out to the studio
where i am met by
the work of yesterday i am still in close circuit
with the work i
have no idea where i am going but likely i will remain
in the very same
place at the end of the week month year
waiting is not
something i like to do yet it seems to be demanded
a part of what i
do must do a part of the discipline
i grow old standing
in one place yet i count the hours the days
April 13, 2015
2 comments:
Strength - not in physical force, but in how you can keep aligned with your purpose, work. ...yes, discipline... ~ my respect and love to you, Annell ~ thank you for sharing your confessional poem....
How I resonate with "I grow old standing in one place yet I count the hours the days." WOW! I love this one, Annell!
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