Bring Solace [2r] Poem by Margaret Alice Second

Fragile & delicate - the soap-bubble thin crystal
glass of beautiful moments balanced on a cusp
of prism rainbows are destroyed by hunger and
fatigue; instant soup and quiet seem required to
reset my gyroscope as smiling tables turn into

angry frowns; returned with this soft fragrance
of wild flowers found in my lunch-hour ramble,
my soul longs for a temporary escape in bright
conversation with a soul mate, but I lament as
there is no email message; returned too early

no colleague after lunch on their post - alone
I face the dark, deceptive stillness in my spirit
to be fought in order to face the regular beat
of routine with which life drives me mad - as
my spirit requires adrenaline to function -

My tables feel bored with my long face: now
is the time to finish and move on to something
new, a text with Dutch statistics does not sound
very promising - yet even the excitement of the
unknown will bring solace too…