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Poem Details
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| Title: | Woman in black |
| Author: | Cathy Page |
| Date Submitted: | 8/19/2008 |
| Email: | quixotic@iinet.net.au |
| Poem: |
It seems all is black, black as a soldier's boots, black as ink that spills in a sudden flowering, blacker than poison. There are black holes torn in my world. I can see no landscape that exists beyond my bleak imagination. Sitting like a prisoner bound in this threadbare chair, I am a tree whose leaves droop in the drought, a moth whose drab wings burn too near a flame. Depression weighs upon my heart like a tombstone. It is torment to keep my heart pumping, the blood circulating, my breath going in and out. My unquiet mind that tangles itself like a seabird in a discarded net. I think there must be something more to say some benediction of peace and hope but the thought of peace is bitter to me now and I cannot hope again. Everything is silent for a moment and then time starts again, measuring life and its seconds of pain.... |