Maybe Ad Infinitum?

A little ditty inspired by the new form of ‘norm’ experienced deep in the countryside (with a bit of mystery thrown in for good measure)

In the morning,
When the light becomes,
There’s more to waking
Than opening eyes
Or hearing foxes call.
I’d truly swap them all
For those silent orbs
Enticing my brain
To comprehend, absorb,
That there is no end
Just mystery unending.
The sound of rain,
The wind gasping
And shutters rattling
Were not the cause.
But trees bending
Their cloth’ed branches
Creaking loud and clear
Brought me back to here.
A reality unblessed
Unwanted and confined.
Restrained, contained,
In fearful isolation.
Maybe Ad Infinitum?



© griffonner 2020

© griffonner 2023
Views: 591
critique and comments welcome.
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omg, this is very good. deserves a nib!


A superb poem, Allen, I concur with Nicoletta that it deserved a ‘pick’.

Regards, Luigi.

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