There are days like this when you can’t,
you can’t get anything together,
not at all, you go out into the air,
the open air of an enclosed garden
to take a deep breath to find something
but the silence is deafening,
there is nothing and nobody there.

You may as well stand n the fog,
the early-morning fog and call out
to be heard, but there’s nobody out there,
the streets still empty, as curtained houses
sleep on, ignoring the demands of
another long winter day where
there maybe even less than yesterday.