In the middle-aged heart
joy can bounce around flow out
as blood moves through the arteries,
but despair can get stuck.
The two engage in battle:
joy enlisting hope, bliss, contentment–
despair conscripting doubt and anger.
A vessel of the heart might rupture.
If I could grow the joy, I’d share it.
If I could exterminate the despair
I would patent my invention.
Tomorrow, let’s watch the last bits of sun,
orange light fading behind the trees.
I’ll take your hand, we’ll laugh together.
This is what we’ll do before night falls. ~Lynne Viti