winter's after-the-noon shadow lights,
fused-tinged with early-onset grays,
harbinger of one for whom death
detaches the answer from that question
too soon asked, so long unanswered,
why me?

those gray lights, a violin accompaniment,
mourning pitched wailings unasked for,
yet always in attendance, court courtiers,
feelings of insufficiency, angry angst insects

envy days when simplistic unknown fears
were the worst enemy, never lingering,
for unknowns have no answers and
cannot obtain permanent resident visas

but reality, another matter, mad hatter,
asking repeating what is this, why is this,
even comprehension partial gives
no comforting answer satisfactory logical

envy innocence past, for newer questions now *****,
comfort by the lies in the essaying, trialling,
if, but, for, the distractions most affordable,
so grasp the pen that is the envy of thy companions

let the ink wail louder than you,
make paper shed what you have used up,
let envy of lost and found, found, yet still lost,
salve, but not solve, soothe, but not save

in the winter afternoons, those shortest days
of indeterminable longevity, words received,
offer little, but words self-conscripted,
a mortal transcript of pain immortalized by pen, relief will yet be,

for the pen is the envy of all