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Poems
Suppose The Day Broke
HC (29 January 1947 / New York, NY)

Suppose The Day Broke

Poem By Hugh Cobb

Suppose the day broke
& your heart was the day:
lighting morning skies,
lining clouds with silver...
How can pain exist with such beauty?
Bereft of night's blinders
sun rises a fire opal
paints grief in daylight's bright palette...

You stare, betrayed by ashen face
eyes red from too much water,
too much salt in old wounds.
How can you feel this rage,
this blind fury with the dead,
knowing they can never answer you;
can never touch your cheek;
wipe away your tears & whisper
that everything's okay.

You take comfort in little things:
daily routine numbs you out
'till their favorite preserves catch your eye
& pain's a dark pool in heart's core.
Shrinking from this sorrow
for fear of drowning
yet beguiled by its flat, black surface
you slip, helpless, into its depths -
all in the flash of an eye
between jams & jellies...

Embarrassed, blotting eyes
you escape to check out:
another day, another night,
another turn of the wheel...
Heartbreak a little less:
a greying of sky before dawn.

(Copyright Hugh Cobb 12/22/04)

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