A March On Thought Poem by Sally A Mortemore

Stripping back the morning clouds 
to slide into my coffee cup of existential thought 
the wish for a bluer sky to colour my horizons deepens 
when in declaration of the grey 
There is a desire for an orange sunset 
to sink into this worn out flesh 
and warm those illusive cockles of my heart 
But trees drip on grey-white skies and weep 
with leafless branches
clouds choking on their bilious temperaments 
the threat of a further day of rain seeming inevitable 
the consequence - a further downpour 
upon my already saturated spirit 
And now the cold edges the corners of the windows
blind and barely opened 
splintering the wood from out their spongey frames 
What would one say if i flung wide my doors 
and let the world warm themselves before my fire?  
or - at least the homeless 
who shiver still in doorways hungry and abused?
Maybe clouds are heaven sent sometimes 
to widen our horizons 
and wonder at other people's circumstance 
viewing life from outside of our very personal perspectives 
to reframe thoughts into something other
far more conducive than being 
shall i say - somewhat self-absorbed?

Sally A Mortemore 2023