…faceless pages, of my poetry
Friendless by choice
I turn to my muses for inspiration
for friendships must be nurtured
and long absences
are never understood
but in the creative corners of my soul
where my muses roam wild and free
softly painted in all the colours
of my poetry, time stands still
there are no expectations
no obligations
no judgement rendered
here is where I love to linger
conversing with words
and drowning in imagery
feeling the emotions
slowly seeping under my skin
some are cold and distant
and feel heavy in my heart
like winter
others are warm and light
like a spring sunrise
some burning out their time
like summer
but for me it is the call of autumn
that always breaks my heart
the sorrow of the trees
and the demise of their leaves
an ever constant reminder
of the fragility of a life
that a life can be taken in a moment
that there is no timeline
for death’s arrival
unlike the seasons
death is random
in both time and targeting
a light can be extinguished
in mere seconds
faster than a candle
in a cold breeze
death deals its hand
with deftly skill
without remorse or regret
and my poor heart
can no longer bear the tangible pain
the knife that stabs
deeper and deeper with every loss
so I turn to the friendless
faceless pages, of my poetry
and day after day
I slowly drown in its therapy
© Ann Bagnall
