Poemetry by T.A. Barnhart


this is one of those mornings.
nothing particularly good or bad.
nothing to celebrate or mourn.
the world continues to suffer;
the bad guys still cause misery.
but for me, here where i live,
it’s just one of those mornings,
almost too ordinary to be endured.
an entire day must be endured.
i’d like to do better than that,
but i don’t have much confidence in myself
to do much more than get through the day
and prove once again that i’m never mistaken
in being disappointed in myself.
it is
of those

©TA Barnhart June 5, 2020