My Heart Has a Place

My chest has a place
that hurts in the morning
or at times
spent sitting alone,
boding ill of peace
and of joy,
of skiing down peaks
and painting on ladders.

Then it all escapes notice
as the heart does its silent work,
for nothing.

This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s