Heartache
Emerges unsummoned
From the subconscious
Takes up residence
Down low
In the stomach
Until
Nothing else matters
A simple question,
“What’s wrong?”
Brings a flood of tears
Washing away
Much of the ache
Leaving behind
Deep sorrow
Confusion, longing
©2017 Thomas W. Cummins
Tuft by tuft
Pulled by the cold night air
Like feathers, heat leaves our bedroom
On this winter’s night
Reaching down
A second blanket is found
Pulled up around the neck
Warmth enfolds, sleep returns
© 2017 Thomas W. Cummins
This morning as I came down the stairs, the rising sun was casting shadows on the wall and closet door after passing through the lace curtain, past the dracaena marginata, and the stair rail. Leaves from outdoors were dancing amidst the lacy and muted pattern.
—∞—
Throwing a pattern© 2014 Thomas W. Cummins
—∞—
To run out of time Knowing There’s not enough time At a certain age After much has been done Little is left Nothing awaits Expectations met Yet Something is missing Snatched away, Actually But to regain That being denied To reclaim, to undo To heal Takes time There’s not enough time I’m afraid At a certain age© 2013 Thomas W. Cummins
