Moody, by Eloise Beltz-Decker

      Some quiet
          weekend nights
              at home
              alone
          I sit, moody.
      "Should I have
          asked him out?
          caught a movie?
          bought a book?
      Too late.
      Already the choking miasma rises
          from the echoing pit of my
          Soul.
      It rises up to my eyes and
          seeps from beneath the lids.
      I feel so
              empty
          that I must cry,
      Listening to the tears
          falling
          silently
          into my emptiness ....
      

      why doesn't it fill?


      Copyright 1993, Eloise Beltz-Decker. Reproduction explicitly permitted, except (a) for profit or (b) without correct attribution.