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Darkness
Inside my box
The night is very dark.
A chill wind blows through my mind
And scatters thoughts
Like dry leaves before a storm –
Twisting, whirling out of reach.
They pile up in corners in
Disordered heaps.
I grasp in panic, but they
Skitter away just out of reach,
Taunting me. Please!
Bring back my ordered life!
I’m lost in moonless black –
No light ahead – no warmth –
All order gone! I shiver.
I draw in upon myself
And see me growing smaller
And smaller - until, at last,
I simply disappear.
Copyright ©
Barbara Peckham
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