Another cold night flows

into yet another dark day.

For more than forty years,

I have spoken to silence

unvoiced presumptions,

unvoiced expectations.

Why do I still presume

tomorrow with change?

Why do I still expect

that day will come?

I’m tired of talking,

pretending some one will hear.

(January 1, 2020)

Leave a Comment

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.