This Isn't Anger, poetry by Jan Sargeant at Spillwords.com

This Isn’t Anger

This Isn’t Anger

written by: Jan Sargeant

 

this isn’t anger drumming through my fingers,
hammering at twisted temples
it isn’t anger clawing at my eyelids,
peeled raw red pupils clenched close

it can’t be anger because
there’s a solace in the moonlight
where trees play shadow shapes
with a night black as pearl,
glowing hope through pain
where clouds sleep over water and
as eyes ache, ears awake
to the sound of hope filling skies

walk with me through treelined paths,
listen to the rustlings and snufflings of early morning dew
feel the beat of the drum of the pulse of a new hour,
stretch out fragile wings and in that moment of
tender stillness, we breathe again as the spirit sings

this isn’t anger drumming through my fingers,
gnawing at my brain,
it can’t be anger because
there’s a solace in the moonlight
folding through the pain

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