Another Day Poem by John Mark Siklere

When the day is o'er and the sun traces the abyss deep;

My eyes to the east are fixed waiting in earnest for another day.

As dawn blossoms from behind a sketchy hill
a sac of chances break before me:

a chance to gain,

a chance to wrestle the 'whys',

a chance to escape the pain,

a chance to wonder the skys.

Another day to tread in hope,
to trace the path of steady living and belonging or a day to slide through bushes of a lonely hill worn out and expectant.