Each morning’s existential; living with pain.
It is like moving thru wood…against the grain.
Pushing to wake thru dreams where pain had no hold.
Eyes open upon foggy morn bleak & cold.
There in the midfield of vision without specs…
Galaxies of stardust one light shaft collects.
Half awake in a cosmological thrall.
Then consciousness big bangs pangs of rust thru all.
I turn on the news of the world; pain, soothe pain.
I shake off its grip & live this day again.

