I would like to write
Full of rage, and dissent, and sorrow
harrowed words like pharos
Spurned—submerged in present benight.

Yet glancing around pale ivory
Walking familiar, blue lined pathways
Nothing will meet mercurial gaze
through hazy shapes of gray
For my heart still beats ardently
after the moon rising over telephone wire
the daphadils struggeling for life
In a garden overgrown and rife—
with abundant, abandoned buried strife
settled beside a tangled brier.

While there is power in shouting grief
I find no such relief
Lacking conviction and belief
That if I set the words to page
I could attenuate the outrage
For in the end, the world remains unchanged.

© Fae Hilscher