The lakes look vacant as the geese have flown
No butterflies adorn the sky
Longing and solitude drown
Into a puddle of indecision
Should I mourn what’s lost or rejoice what’s to be
An awkward pose to keep
I waiver side to side
My balance and gait lose rhythm
Throw off my stride
Hydrangea and Hostas turn toward the earth
Edges curl petals drop
Time to move aside
They said enough. They gave their all
Who heard, who noticed, who heeded?
A blanket unfolds and sleep is the next season.
When is enough, what is all?
When sleep is the next season
Someone translate please
Insomnia is complicit
dversepoets.com OLN Open Link Night. Poem of choice. Hello to Lillian our host and all who dare to go live and read their poetry. Also all who choose otherwise.