Of Dreams and Desolution: The Poetry of J. Douglas Stephenson

Mo(u)rning

Mo(u)rning

Just the tiniest reminders

Of the memories now faded

Of the sweetness of youth

And the hours we wasted

It's an X-ray of living

And my eyes cannot open

In an instant, existence

Can be so surely broken

And the decks are all stacked

The only question is "When?"

Through the keyhole, all gathered

For a glimpse of the end

Better here, for the moment

Than to wait for the rest

Was the heart made for caring

Or just beats in the chest?

J Douglas Stephenson