SOMETIMES
Sometimes it is hard to smile . . .
sometimes . . .
A heaviness gets in the way
and stagnates the dance
and breath forgets
and eyes are glazed
sometimes . . .
Shadows hide the light
and dreams are blurred
and trapped in black
and tomorrows die
upon a pyre
stacked high with sticks
as dry as fire
as dead as paper
words erased
sometimes . . .
and song remembers not
and what
was there in colours bright
in skywide light
is forever spent
and shrivelled grey
that is not there
sometimes . . .
and bark and branch
and velvet, silk
and tweed and glass
don’t thrill at finger touch
sometimes . . .
and flowers sweet in flimsy dress
mourn slow with drooping heads
and clouds close in
with sombre stress
and thunder strikes up
the last post grave
in solemn demise
sometimes . . .
Sometimes it is hard to smile . . .
sometimes . . .
