Gloaming Hour Poem by Joyce Chelmo
Gloaming Hour
outside in the gloaming,
southern wind blew my hair
like flames
every star in the galaxy
was visible in blue vespers
reaching to grasp for them
symbolically
i would like to believe
they're there just for me
i’m a realist
a longing deep inside of me
i won’t concede
holding myself
to keep
from falling apart
dreaming never works
seems no matter how
many embrace me
i still feel alone
what is this indefinable
hunger that lives in me
this desire
to scream at the stars
Joyce, I think its called the Cosmic Blues, by some. But what I'm beginning to think, we are not born feeling alone, but like a poem by Jack Gilbert, 'We get to be alone by time, by luck or by misadventure.' And so there is the longing to recapature that feeling of connectedess, of belonging, again. Your poem beautifully brings this fundamental human experience to light. Phillip
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/25/2024 7:20:00 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Scream at the stars...that's why they're there...for you...waiting! -Rick