Trepidation Sits On My Doorstep, poetry by Abagail Summers at Spillwords.com
Dave Hoefler

Trepidation Sits On My Doorstep

Trepidation Sits On My Doorstep

written by: Abagail Summers

 

It’s another day where the crimson flame doesn’t shine.
Owls hoot in the distance. The darkness has tricked them.
A slight breeze brushes my cheek, and strands of hair flutter.

A little past noon, and I have nothing to show
for my day. No marks of success.
Duty calls, but I don’t answer. Not sure why?

There is a pull to responsibility, but there
is also disdain. The weight of the day
is absorbed by every minute that ticks away.

Trepidation sits on my doorstep.
It knocks when silence endures.
I cannot let my mood coincide with the weather.

Between the morning and night,
humid air clings to me, traces of
light expands, covering a cultivated landscape,
and feeding my soul with worth.

Ominous clouds loom beyond the fields,
their aggravated blue hue rests on the horizon, and mocks me.
I only want sunshine. Nonetheless, the
two battle it out in the sky overhead. It’s
a nonsense tug of war. I try not to fall into
its fight. I’d rather wait it out, hike up my skirt, and
forge ahead. It is the best I can do for now.

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