The Morning
J
Jan Oskar Hansen
0
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New morning
Darkness at the edges of my vision
Blurred as time erases contours of the past
The evoked is as sharp as a lone tree on a hill
The dark shadows at the foot of the mountain.
The loneliness of walking on a road where no one lives
Knowing you are the last one of your tribe
The memory has shed the execs burden of triviality
Distorted remains float out of reach to make sense.
A new morning is a mere comma in the vastness
In the end, life is a dream of no consequence.
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