exhausted by the enormity of everything
my eyes refuse to focus
and what is there to see?
//
so i surrender let them close
even though there’s so much of
nothing important to do
//
somewhere on another plane
a bell rings and a small bird
startled
drops a pebble into the pond of time
//
a shudder of hope ripples out
the distance it must travel unquantifiable
in the smallness of the mind
//
what will be left of this thin wave
when it collides with consciousness?
//
as the last shreds of daylight melt into
the myth of another day
i wake to a chime i feel rather than hear
//
no miracle’s cured my life or the world
the dead are still dead and thousands more drop daily
but somewhere a small feathered something’s
singing bravely in the dark
//
RC deWinter’s poetry is widely anthologized, notably in New York City Haiku (NY Times, February 2017), Nature In The Now (Tiny Seed Press, August 2019), Coffin Bell Two (March 2020), 2020 Summer Anthology: a Headrest for Your Soul (Otherworldly Women Press, July 2020), in print: 2River, Event, Genre Urban Arts, Gravitas, Meat For Tea: The Valley Review, the minnesota review, Night Picnic Journal, Prairie Schooner, Southword, among others and appears in numerous online literary journals.