Breaking Of Certainties Poem by Mark Pollins

At the time of breaking of certainties,
When my eyes express absolute truisms,
Shelley’s Wild West Wind seems chilling
On such a hot sweltering day.

Loneliness came by the other day,
Not in person;
It was the understanding of its swamping power.

Quiet Liturgical music,
And the sun going down,
And me by myself –
No language, No sport, No team:
Lost meaning in a lost circumstance.
Just the odd lifting of my head,
To make sure nothing is moving,
And that I’m still in the same position