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Two poems by T.R. Smallwood


The Hour

In this hour of my walking away deprives me of the shadows about me
Securities eluding me
This hour astounding me

The earthly glow befriends me
But I'll have no need of it here

Black hole
Spiraling hole
Suck away the night
Suck away the silence

This hour of silence and pain
Chaos and profound concern
This hour of intellect and astonishment

This hour of over looking conceding contentedness
Flailing sentiment
Enriched distemperment
This night of commitment
I find taunting of delirium
Smothering the hour full of purpose and provocative direction

Subjection is suffocating objection.
Minute perplexities of unwavering contemptuous scorn

This hour I stand before ancient relics contemplating a sacrifice of the inconceivable
The hour
This hour
Haunts me
This hour
The hour
Entices me


Poem © 2002 Tracey Smallwood, all rights reserved
 appears here by permission

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