..."quiet desperation."

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We can question Ourselves
until the last breath,

never knowing
all the struggles
of Others.

***

I've carried the suitcase
of your Life:

The walk to the Station,
and the ride,
on the tracks,
Home.

***

[Silently,
in my Heart,
I recognized the Child.

What we experience
is not a burden,
it's a Life.]

***

Motion, commanded,
day-by-day;
forward, pushed,
with a Devil at Our heels.

***

It's there,
among the Quiet,-- stalling, before it starts--

You'll hear the murmur
of Our Days:

Onward, onward,
between Connections, never made...

...and, the Silence,

respectfully,

stirred.