Slough Of Despond Poem by Sally Plumb Plumb

With the dim light
of terrible day
in lifes asylum,
still, bone faced,
the worn entities
ot time,
passing time.

Drugged by memories
stagnating
in the brains river,
and blood staring eyes
dried of tears,
hear my own heartbeat
in the silence.

I, one with them,
understand without speaking,
take my space
in this dormitory
of sleeping minds,
uncompassed and sterile
of any desire,
sift without need
an unmoved existance.

Sally Plumb