Paul Willason Poet Free verse

On Rainy Afternoons

From nowhere,
a type of sadness descends 
as that which sometimes possesses  
a child on rainy afternoons
when what is vulnerable withdraws
and curls up in a corner 
of the mind to seal
itself with silence. 

It's a sadness that doesn’t 
wear a name, more like a shadow
cast by something way back
that memory has forgot
or put away concealed 
behind a veil of sleep.
It comes creeping
out of the quiet

and hangs as a blur
beyond the reach of sight,
a blank in the headlights
of a child’s far away stare,
without shape or form,
a sadness perhaps left 
by a scar or the imprint 
of a longing cast by a previous life,
or nothing, nothing more
than an ordinary sadness
that comes upon us all
on rainy afternoons, 
when we are alone.

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John Lawless October 17, 2023 at 6:43 AM Paul, have you been peeking into my rainy afternoons???? This is beautifully done and puts me in memory of the "the unexamined life" thingy. I have a few demons that lay in wait for a "quiet" rainy afternoon. I shall fave this pointed insight