I must remind myself daily
that it is not me.
The clouds sit heavily
filling the deep valley.
There is no wind to fill my sails.
every effort to move on is doomed to fail.
I sit and ponder and sometimes wail.
My spirit locked in by clouds like the tightest jail.
I am in the dull doldrums, so it seems.
Sun hides in mourning as I try to dream
of gardens and beaches… such light-filled themes.
Ohio winters’ dull doldrums make me scream.
Filed under POETRY
Poems are carrots in front of the nose,
meant to stir the desire to go
by horses so attune to the reins
they have forgotten how to trot
down the lane
on their own.
Poems are a kick in the rump
meant to raise to action
those sitting on the fence
prone to inaction
when what they need
is a sense of dissatisfaction.
Poems are mere words
until they are not
to those who feel their power
and find themselves caught
in new ways of seeing
and thinking
and feeling.
Filed under POETRY
annarino writes 