fog

“Cutting Through the Fog”, “Eternal Game” and “Brokenness”

In Poetry by Ann Christine Tabaka

Cutting Through the Fog

The strangeness of the wind,

no friend to my face, as a flat

gray day trails its veil across

the sky. Past life memories, a

harsh reality, staring me down.

Bleary eyes filled with sorrow

saying their last good-byes.


Somewhere off in the distance

a train whistle pierces the night,

then fades like forgotten dreams.

Conclusions waiting as years

are plucked clean, like daisy

petals floating to the ground.


Lost, standing on the corners of

Nowhere and Regret. Forsaken

once again. Conflagrant passions

fading with each failed attempt.

Wandering caliginous streets.

Desperate and impuissant I make

my way through the brume, as

it swallows me whole.

Eternal Game

Night sounds amble away with starlight

at their heels. Seeking out the yawn of

morning’s sleepy outstretched arms.


Hours, four and twenty, play tag

amongst themselves. A game

the moon knows all too well.


Dreams come to rest on shoulders

white as milk, until the sunlight beckons,

with eyes the color of sapphires.


The story is perpetual beyond the span

of time. Eternally chasing its own tail

through the universe in pursuit

of a brilliant golden sun.

Brokenness

There is no black and white

anymore. Everything is gray

as I wade through Indecision.


I do not remember how to pray.

My knees now fail to bend.

Desperate hands forget how to fold.


The words no longer form in

my effete heart, nor do they

pour forth from my mute mouth.


Emptiness reaching out, searching

beyond a sacred scripture, for a

faith larger than taught words.


Malignant desires, like invasive

vines, overtopping the forest.

Choking out all natural beauty.


Frenetic lives cluttered with

belongings, void of any true value.

Broken beings in need of healing.


An urge to be filled. A question

to be answered. A new spiritual

awakening rising from within.

Broken no more.

About the Author

Ann Christine Tabaka

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Ann Christine Tabaka lives in Delaware. She is a poet and artist. She loves gardening and cooking. Chris lives with her husband and two cats. Her most recent credits are The Paragon Journal, The Literary Hatchet, Metaworker, Raven Cage Ezine, RavensPerch, Anapest Journal, Mused, Indiana Voice Journal, Halcyon Days Magazine, and The Society of Classical Poets.