I feel a sudden lack of faculty;
As though there are no more words available
When I find I’m in need of
A saleable few
To trade me through to year’s end.
I’m stumbling over the simplest of lines;
Falling face first over the tape because the worst
Of frailty has clamped me
In its hands and
Is threatening to strangle me.
And I don’t know why, as I’m happier
Than I have been for the longest time this year.
Maybe confidence has ponced
Me out once too often,
And softened my deference mechanisms,
And I can’t reason the difference
Between joy and voyeurism, or it could be that
I’m so determined to get it right
I’ve forgotten how to
Recognize insights I once knew by heart.
Or maybe I’ve just spat out all my
Passion and have no lasting thoughts to seal
These remaining weeks.
Maybe I should wait
Until you return home tell you how I truly feel.