SCRAPING AROUND

Humid days
dripping with the sweat of events
feeble drizzles
wordless pall
the weight of incredulity, like an ox
lies heavy on the tongue
scraping around
to make new words
marks to fill another naked page.

Itinerant figures jostling
across stained sheets
just an excuse
something to scrawl
while time runs out
till the walls clang down
definitively
breathlessly
putting a lid on it all..

– Diane Sophrin
  Vermont, 7.24.18