I was reminded that I didn’t post a poem on Friday. So, here is one about loss. 

He walked on the beach,
and felt the sand
with bare feet.
The sun fell from the sky
in bands of gold and red.
When the light of the buildings
succumbed to the dark,
he knew that another day was over for him.
He didn’t want to walk to the car.
He didn’t want to face the reality
that the day was over.
He didn’t want to live another night
in a house alone,
without happiness and life.
He didn’t know what waited for him
on the other side of midnight.
Would he awaken in an empty house,
trying mightily to move old bones
that wanted to stay still?
Would the ghosts that haunted him
survive and thrive in sunshine.
Would they follow him,
another day?
He knew that he should be grateful
that the sun came up again for him.
He struggled to smile at strangers,
who had their own struggles,
and kept them to themselves.
So many strangers.
So many struggles.
So much pain.
Everyone hid their pain from him.
When the day ended,
he went back to the beach
and felt the sand
with bare feet,
while the sun fell from the sky. .rickpensive


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