Dasim

Little Man

Walking seriously,

Neither slowly nor fast,

With purpose in mind,

Or maybe not.

Pockets heavy with doubts,

Eyes a bit dreamy,

Seeing some things,

Missing others.

A life’s story

Written on his face

For those who care to see.

Anxious, yet unwilling

To be home, where

Dreams and Memories

Born from illusions

And hidden in shame

Like a thief’s bounty

Roam freely,

Jealously guarded

By a faithful silence.

Photographs stare

But ask no questions

Or demand apologies.

Dinner with shadows

Summoned by wine.

Loneliness vanishing 

In trivial chores.

Pink evening light

The only witness

As he prepares

 For another day.

Comments4

  • Goldfinch60

    Each new day is full of wonder.

    Andy

    • Dasim

      Indeed it is. Or at least it should be.

    • dusk arising

      Most evocative of the hum-drum pattern we can fall into without realising.
      Very good writing.

      • Dasim

        Hello dusk,
        Thank you for your kind words.
        Indeed we do. Poetry sometimes helps.

      • L. B. Mek

        like Dusk Arising mentioned already, I like the beat to your writes - even if by design, it feels so natural: a cascading flow - all of its own

      • Hinnant

        I loved the lines Loneliness Vanishing In Trivial Chores. It reminds me of my son who has depression and loneliness and only feels better when he works and keeps busy. Thank you for sharing.



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