Turmoil (Poetry monthly)

https://youtu.be/NLH70qj2fKU

There's rain on my window 

and wind winging leaves 

by the scales of my eyes,

and I'm thinking about -

thinking about flying -

thinking about fear; all the tears

in the world, and the starving,



the wars; the cold killing that's been,

and the killing to come... And I'm 

thinking about burglars and murders, 

the filth and the scum



and I'm thinking about dying

and how it will be 

when it gets to my turn.

I'm dwelling on black -

the darkness of death's

at the back of my mind

and sorrow surrounds us -

astounds us with



hopelessness - we're focussed 

on loss, and I'm scared for the kids

who'll be counting the cost -

The scarred and the crying, 

the starved the dying. The killed lying stiff

in the dark. 



I'm afraid for the living,

struggling to breathe in the world

hotting up, and I'm thinking about -

thinking about flying -



thinking of passing like clouds 

rushing sideways. 

Like the leaves by my eyes -

I'm thinking about thinking -



an inkling for hastening

the end of this terrible journey -

Thinking I'm just about ready to jump

and I'm thinking about -

thinking about

nothing