The Years That Follow.

by Poet on the Piano   Oct 12, 2018


There's no easily accessible sun
that I can summon at will.
Please, warm the air around me.
Each breath I take extinguishes the
flames. Your light will be my final
resting place after years of feeling
like I've hiked across continents
yet barely moved.

Where does a lost soul go
when it wants to stop wandering,
when can I arrive at the doorstep of
peace?

7


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Latest Comments

  • 6 years ago

    by Brenda

    Mary Anne, this write I feel so many can relate to. You've described this feeling of going in circles, yet continuing to stand still perfectly. I hope you find that warm hearth where you can finally rest and really be at peace. Hugs-

  • 6 years ago

    by Ben Pickard

    In keeping with the metaphorical hiking and getting nowhere theme, this is a poem that feels like I got to the end with a 30kg rucksuck on my back; it is that 'heavy', if you understand my meaning. Terribly sad, but I do hope it was a cathartic release.

    Take care, MA

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