(x = space)
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During Great Pain
(preempting Ms. Dickinson)
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In the ‘midst of pain
There is no formal feeling
It hurts is not a great pronouncement
One could, when it’s bad,
Wish to call up the carriage
That Death provides,
Though that arrival should be way,
Way off
And when it’s time
Will call up itself
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No, this is pain
That ends with mortal life ahead
But now the middle time’s invested
Having begun some time ago
Has an ending to which to look forward
And now
Is now
The beginning and the ending
That don’t matter
As this moment
When we wish it had
Never happened
If there’s awareness
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Or we simply want it
To go away
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C L Couch
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Remaining.
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clcouch123 
March 23, 2021 at 11:50 pm
I like your writing, not your pain…
March 24, 2021 at 5:06 pm
I haven’t been receiving your blogs in the last little while and upon checking noticed that I was not following you………..for some reason I had been deleted………I am now happily following you again……….and all the better for it. Got some catching up to do. I’m glad the carriage is a long way off, though when it arrives, I hope it will be a smooth ride.