
Too Much
There is too much to take in.
Too much death.
Too much life.
More love than I know what to do with,
more pain than I can process,
and I am left wordless,
paralyzed,
less broken than simple flotsam
tossed on the waves
waiting for solid ground.
About this poem.
It’s that kind of day, and it’s only 9:AM.
Tom