No Sun In The Soul Poem by Carolyn Brunelle

Sometimes five layers of clothes
couldn’t warm the cold in my bones.
I feel so much older than my years and
as gray and dark as the weather is outside.
Life seems to have retreated from my spirit entirely.

I am wearied and pained by my recent losses,
the goodbyes to relationships, and to youth.
I am inconsolable; my inner compass dulled.
Maybe it’s just another perk of growing old,
having days when there’s no sun in the soul
no wanting or caring either. Just a nothingness.

Wish I could go talk to mom and dad about it
but both are gone now. I talk to them anyway;
but perhaps with a little more understanding these days
of the sadness that was always in mom’s face
when she looked at her own parents’ picture on the wall.