Dying flame in the dark

All useless
Puffs of dust thrown
From a flick of the hand
The straying of wild wind
A crush of smothering flowers
Every effort
Drowned at the start
A matchtip flare in the dark
All the dreaming and the toil
A spattering of rain on dried soil
All the words worth a dog’s bark
Plundered now the richest part
Left but the splinters
Carved in the rotten bark

Written January 20, 1996

Unfortunately a lot of the poems I’ve been posting written by my late father are a bit… er, depressing. This one I think is pretty relatable. A nice one for expressing those moments when your’re feeling especially discouraged. I feel like this sometimes with my career. Like all of these teeny, tiny steps don’t get me much closer to where I’d like to be. But, unlike Dad, I feel pretty confident that I’m meant to be right where I am in this moment. Gotta just keep on keepin’ on, as they say.


Copyright © 2013 Mani O'Brien. All rights reserved.

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