Good Mourning

Location

Papua New Guinea

Oh what a

fog I glimpsed today;

in a peculiar way,

it steamily lay.

It seemed to say

“hello”  and “hey”

and depraved the morning day

of its fresh ache,

suspending heartbreak

in midair

as I lay awake,

ready to take

what daybreak had to make,

(its own heartache).

Hindered by its sheer spray,

trembling soulquakes,

shuttering waves in its wake,

to effortlessly overtake

the clouds in our eyes.

Its hazy ice

forcing a disguise

of a peeping sunrise,

failed attempts to dry our eyes,

with crisp blankets

that cover our skies,

waving away

the mourning day.   

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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