When the gulfs
between you
and everything else
become absolute
and the terrors
of the inconsequential
are unsheathed,
silly little things.
here is how it should be.
how it once was.
perhaps
how it could be,
could have been.
When it ends
will it be enough to have
known
what was possible?
It will have to be
It will have to be.
silly little
things
This poem was published in the PEN America Zine – Verse Among Us
Robert Hiraeth 