OFF DAY

I’m gritting like I’m running out of time,

teeth grinding away at my ancient pearl,

like my old newspaper days on deadline,

or at front door for first date with a girl.

Once was, clock hands waved me off in despair,

clock face snarling, story’s last graph hiding

from sight, editor glaring with death’s stare.

Now smart phone’s digits silently chiding,

ghosts whispering chants of how no one cares

how I end up, or where. This warm winter

day, bare breeze lisping warnings, my gaunt chair

creaking complaints, I plea for my center

to something far away. No response. Sum

of all breaths flees me, fearing what’s to come.

Roger Armbrust

February 16, 2020

VALENTINE’S DAY 2020

Did you wake and watch the sunrise today

from your new balcony? Or to shun cold,

peer through your glass door, perhaps in dismay

at that great cosmic light granting us bold

visions of skyline, of trees granting breath,

of fields where children play? Were gentle clouds

of pastel passing, their multi-hued wreaths

recalling loving arms? Did you call out loud

or whisper to them? I thought your soft voice

flowed past me, praising sunlight, praying we

lead honest lives, hoping every day’s choice

be based on faith, each thought on clarity

which rises from us like sunlight, like hearts

loving each new day, welcoming each new start.

Roger Armbrust

February 14, 2020