Morning Unbroken

I am empty a vessel as broken clay pot

A message in bottle that was tossed and forgot

One shoe in the gutter alone without match

A looted old shed, beaten door without latch

With absence of spirit the wind seems to cease

The air hangs like pall but the hush brings no peace

Eyes red and rheumy no tears left to cry

Skin cracked like the earth in a creek that’s run dry

Teeth black and rotted in mouth that is parched

Blistered and tired these feet forced to march

Aimless and rootless compelled to move on

Though all recollections of love are long gone

But there’s break in the clouds as the dusk leaves for night

Fluorescent pink beams provide scrapings of light

And the sun as it sets, to the cowed, seems to flee

But it only seeks pause for it sleeps fitfully

And me with mere faith that there’s always a dawn

Tis barely a thing to hang all my hopes on

Still finds strength to walk though I’m tired and worn

For none can stand to this old crone and the morn…