Her Grace/ Sad Little Room

Her Grace

Start out early in the morning

Up before the sun

Start out moving slowly

Wait, and it will become a run

The sky is gray and smokey 

The walls have grown old and thin

The wind pierces through your skin

Through the harsh cold day

You see her as she moves with such grace

She has so much grace.

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Sad Little Room

The moon-whitened walls,

sunken in the hollows of the house,

sit still like water

in a frozen autumn night.

The idle bed jammed in the corner, 

molded in position,

Sits like a loyal dog.

Waiting for his owner to return.

The great wooden desk,

pressed under the lonely window,

has experienced a whole life

with the drag of my pen.

I look at the sad little room

void of color. Void of feelings

I live and work with in these 4 walls,

like a caged animal scratching at the lock.

So it goes...