it’s tea now
in those late night hours
moving slowly toward dawn
to ease the mind
not numb it
with whiskey
a peace sought
much needed
these days months years
as the clock ticks
mercilessly
toward the hour it stops
and whatever awaits
is finally here
Month: March 2022
“Hope” is the thing with feathers by Emily Dickinson
“Hope” is the thing with feathers –
That perches in the soul –
And sings the tune without words –
And never stops – at all –
And sweetest – in the Gale – is heard –
And sore must be the storm –
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm –
I’ve heard it in the chillest land –
And on the strangest Sea –
Yet, never, in Extremity,
It asked a crumb – of Me.