Tired

That soul-jarring tired

Wrenches the mind loose

Belly back flipped

To oblivion.

Nerves shot, eyes

Flacked, wondering which

Is the begin again.

Where is the spark that

Lights in the dark

Where the solstice that

Heralds the start

Of the climb of the

Clamber to the

Raucous, the clamour

The Spring, Summer

Brightness and life.

It's not here, though it

Comes, another turn of

The sun, 'nother soar

Deep through the outer.

So it's weary that I tread

To the window instead,

Keep it clear, for the

Shafting light to befall it.

To fall on and light up

A soul life's sights up

Creased eyes, turned lips

Nightshade blooming.