When I heard the news
I felt the sun in my heart
It wasn’t there to warm me
It burned a hole in my chest
When I heard the news
I laughed shattered glass
gasped under a thought I couldn’t grasp
And reached for the bottle
When I heard the news
Black and white print
of everything we were
turned yellow
where my ribs met
the weight collapsed
all that was good about the day.
That could apply to many different sorts of news, Tom, none of them good. Here’s hoping that it’s just poem for you right now.
janet