adventures in dysthymia

Wednesday, April 26, 2006

WRAPPINGS

My prayer, many the restless
night, is to sleep
and not wake. The sun
is only God’s latest taunt;
the morning, His brightly wrapped
package of despair.

How many empty boxes
have I opened before?
Now the ribbons are pressed
between my pages, the papers
carefully folded. And why
not? They’re all I have.

Stephen Brooke ©2006

3 comments:

Bob said...

Great piece... I may be in a "Chinese" frame of mind today, but that is very much how it comes across to me.

Steve B said...

I hadn't thought of that but, yes, it does have that feel, doesn't it? All that T'ang poetry percolating down in the subconscious, I suppose!

Steve B said...

PS...I did actually give brief consideration to working this into a sijo so I did recognize its Eastern feel.