Soft places
live within us
Places in the mind
Places in the heart
live vulnerable
to the light

We may not
remember when
they were planted
or for that matter
by whom or why
Grace tumors

Suddenly they
just metastasize
Run amok inside us
Red cells overwhelm
all the white cells
We simply melt

And tears flow
from a locked room
we’d forgotten was in us
A dark room of shadows
which stir in dreams
while we sleep

The young man
despises soft spots
Works on his abdomen
until it is six`pack hard
while the old man
sits silently sobs

” . . . the ways of melancholy – how it seeps into the spirit,
how it disincarnates the will, how it banishes the senses
to the chill of twilight, how even the best and worst intentions
wither in its keep.” ~ Mark Strand


About Peter Notehelfer

I'm a retired people person who now finds the time to watch the little details of the world without worrying about being watched by anyone . . . I live on an Island north of Seattle with my wife named Ellen, a yellow dog named McGee, a yellow cat named Gatzby, and four fine chickens . . . I read fiction, bake bread, smoke salmon, and fish whenever the weather allows . . . Oh, and yes, I try to write a poem every day simply to avoid senility!
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2 Responses to Melancholy

  1. cheryl622014 says:

    Thank you. So right for all. Beautifully expressed and poignant. We do well to remember that is true when we look at others.

    Liked by 1 person

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