by Doreen Gildroy
Oh let me be quiet and near.
It’s all I can offer.
I’ve nothing to show-frail,
disrobed.
A world’s brokenheartedness.
Whatever else I thought
loses me,
in fever state. Whatever
youth, hard pressed.
I wish to be a silent resting (growing
would be too much to ask)-in my
knowledge. I have none.
Talking as calmly-clearly
as I can. I can’t support
it.
You try to tell me your burden-
and I break. Can only weep
today, can only
shake. Not my lack of compassion, rather
all of it.
