deepundergroundpoetry.com

Grey Wing

A grey wing beats and numbs the day
and hollow indecision drapes itself unbidden
all along my limbs,
like bleaking fog seeped over Autumned paths,
a caul that's smothering my breath.
My hours that should be joyed with work
are dulled and trail away before my eyes
like lulled, stooped shouldered men
paced aimless, shuffling,    
slow along their way.
No livening's left to me now;
in sway on everything's a chill,
a lowering, a winter's pall.
She is not here.
She's distanced all.
Written by Baldwin
Published | Edited 6th Feb 2020
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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