© “Ground” by H. Walker
it’s the least of their cares cast off
and it wasn’t enough time in the day to keep those feelings in check
it can’t take the telling signs
it becomes non-rhyme reasons to expect a steady hand holding a jagged line
it’s a nonsense thing
an essentially harrowing tale told to no one in whispers
it’s the mere mention of being present
it is resentment
it is reaching
it is a reaching upwards when the ceiling lowers all it’s own
it’s a seething hysteric in an otherwise blank matter
it was blown clear across a night sky through thoughts and wishes from beyond
and right there, right then, slow steps and voices muted just enough to avoid detection select the spacing of left-brained thinking that all is something else
but mostly
(don’t profess to know all the right things at the right times)
it’s the feeling of being halfway wanted to go fully away
H. Walker 6-12-2020
BEING 40 SOMETHING 