It’s In There Somewhere

I was never taught
to feel
appropriately,
and so, too often, I am like a child,
too boisterous in love,
too despondent in loss,
too easily filled. A little disregulated
but disciplined enough
people barely notice.

As a result I don’t trust them, the feelings,
until I suddenly do and they become
as sure as stone,
with the texture of fireworks.

About this poem

I have written before of my being slow to process feelings. I won’t bore you again with the explanations, physical and psychological. But I assure you, once they come through, I am more passionate than makes sense for a man my age. But you’d never know it unless you read my verses.

The picture was taken on Cape Cod. One of many places I go to empty my spirit and start anew.

Tom