It's Still in the Evenings

poem about the nights on my own when I sit in the aloneness.

No need, for a time,
to sit at the computer
and pour over articles
while studying music plays
gently.

No need, for a time,
to decide what to cook
to eat with someone else.
The bowl of cereal will
suffice.

No need, for a time,
to write and share my thoughts,
he is not here to hear.
I'll read myself to sleep
once more...

No need, for a time,
to take captive the thoughts
that lead to the pit of despair.
I well know the clammy walls
of it.