In the Basement

The room itself is suffering
Gloom oozing from under the base boards

Rain rushes into the basement
Smelling of mud and Chaos
Old hats and scum swirling down there behind the door

He says
It always happens here in your head without your permission
We all do it
The fear of dying

I just wanted to leave footprints ascending the stair
Mud on the oak boards

I look across the basement
Dear friend
Take what peace I can give
And know rest . . . at last

Published by

Chyfrin the Celtic poet

Artist, Poet, Electrical/Biomedical Engineer, Actor, Playwright, Set construction, Educator, Lover of womankind and single malt scotch

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