Tundra

Another poem exploring the chill that comes from lack of love and the desire that dies....

Heart's atrophy lingers, 

estranged from loves touch. 

Acclimated to tundra's winter, 

I no longer shiver. 

Will desire ever visit again, 

how can it, 

being starved and desolate? 

How can one be alone, 

surrounded by friends? 

Who cares about woes, 

when each has their own they are tending to? 

Who will understand this, 

there is none to talk to, 

there is none to embrace, 

there is only and endless expanse and void. 

I would keep myself company, 

but I checked out long ago. 

At least the cold kills the senses, 

numb is a friend I know well. 

At least hardness of heart, 

no longer feels. 

This new norm, 

this comfortable complacency, 

has a permanent residence for my weary head. 

The explorers spirit has given up the ghost

and I will settle this wilderness. 

Author's Note

..............

Reviews

[GlendaK]

I can relate. It seems like the world is sympathetic but none is empathetic. Just remember this: As long as there is "life" there is "hope". Awesome work you've done there, Dave W.! G

[Chris Shaw]

Acceptance. The wilderness is a lonely cold place. I found this poem melancholic Dave, as a reader. Yet there is comfort here for the author. Pleased to stop by.

Chris

[Dave W.]

Thankyou Chris for this review, I was going for melancholic

[Chris Shaw]

You achieved your aims well Dave.