I quit
trying to understand
why I started
how to stop
but then
I pause
a momentary phase
of non-doing
not stopping
for
ever
just
for
now
and here
in the quiet
in the cold air
in my quivering mind
space
to ask
is
now
the time
to
give
up
give
out
give
in
or simply to keep going until there is an edge visible
on the page
on the horizon
a place
to cling
fingers trembling
to hang
hopes draping
over the day
in
crocheted
memories
across
long
empty
laps
Inspired by the prompt to write a poem on endings
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