Quiet Tunnels (Poetry)

This is not the life
we wanted for ourselves
so we think we are
hard done by
blame it on bad luck
or some vague curse
to do with our location

Despite it all
in fact because of it
we each find a way
of battling the demons
defying lousy fate
and pretending things’ll
work out in the end

The chances are it will get worse
November days don’t help
the spirit’s headlong plunge
and the black dog visits
makes himself at home

We make time pass
go dredging for those things
that used to make us laugh
often it works
or we pick up pens
and write a dozen different
stories — every one a plan —
an escape route
a quiet tunnel out
                        of here