Halifax Hotel

A long drive from Concord -
But the lines on the road were
Paired with words to and from friends
About the latest crisis, all the day's pains
And the follies of the hour.

I've reached for too much, hoped
For too much, gotten broken.

After damaging the rental's door on
My way into the garage under the hotel
I drag myself to the check-in counter and
Quickly assemble a smile to meet the clerk's.

I enter my room like a phantom;
None of the sense of the new, of purpose,
None of the usual anticipation that comes
When seeing a freshly made bed, neatly
Hung towels that seemed to say,
"I'm for you alone these days."
Outside, night was falling; falling harder inside.

Morning.
I've a harbour view; the early sun
Glints along the water's surface;
Someone on the pier, where all the
Restaurants are, is hammering something
Into submission - a sound centuries old.
These are sights and sounds
That would have made my heart light.
But now it is as heavy as a battleship,
My spirit as laden as a beast of burden.
I think only that my room is quiet and
I could slip away now were my sorrows
Paired with hopelessness.
But there is the sun, the sea, the gull aloft -
Tranquility; ciphers of what may be.

So to the shower to wash this old body;
To the packed clothing;
To the rapiers with which to battle through
Another day and clear away the enemies Of tomorrow, one more time.
O God. O God.