THE TEDIUM OF A JOURNEY
-W.Somerset Maugham
Lay in bed with my thoughts
one by one they left me quiet
without resolve or resolution,
time moved without my thinking much about it
whether love or anything would come
to rouse me from this serene unmoving,
could I place this moment in history?
it was already so, past, catalogued, forgotten
“tedium of a journey” wrote Maugham
did he know something?
grabbing his boat along Pacific nights
full of storms and a vastness that my city did not have
I got up, leaving my thoughts in bed
to disintegrate with the morning sun
unknown, unwritten.
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