poetry by j matthew waters

it’s difficult to write a new poem

it is winter and my heart begins to warm my soul

when the world around you
has suddenly changed

for you see
as much as you’d like to believe
nobody is in charge here
in fact everything is out of control

if only the morning
would arrive one last time
and I could see
everything happening
outside the kitchen window

december two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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