One More Day

For context – see below

Upon the end of night's darkest hours
A sleepy sun boldly climbed above eastern mountain towers
To softly touch those angry angels of white floating overhead
With fiery fingers painted different shades of red

And while I silently slept ever so softly
My mind drifted drowsily, fastly fading in and out of a rude reality
When suddenly, upon the weary wings of a cold morning breeze
Came the sweet sounds of a mournful melody that pierced the serene silence with wondrous ease

Through heavy haze my half-closed eyes still clung to sleep
Grey clouds draped the daylight, dreary, dark, and deep
The clock declared near noon, though morning in my head
I cursed the cruel commotion that cracked apart my bed

With clenched fists I struck the wall, demanding silence stay
"Damn that neighbor, blaring noise so early in the day!"
But the banging only burdened me with sharper sound
A piercing, patient piping that strangely shook the ground

It wasn't laughter, wasn't life from rooms beside my own
But something solemn, sorrowful - a long and lonesome tone
Through cracked blinds I caught the cold, the sky so stark and still
A chill that called me outward, against my weary will

I stumbled to the balcony, the breeze a bitter knife
Below the black-clad mourners marked the ending of a life
Bagpipes bled their broken ballad through the graveyard's grieving air
A requiem reminding me of time I would not share

And I, alive yet angry, wasting daylight's fragile flame
While they would beg one final breath to speak a single name
The bed behind me beckoned, shadows calling me to stay
But the music made me wonder what I'd trade for one more day

Was it me they mourned below, or some stranger in the ground
The way the wailing bagpipes bent the breathing air around
For in that moment, frozen - balanced between grave and sun
I could not tell if I was waking - or if I was the one undone


Erin Michelle Smith 
started: 1987 - finished: 2025
  
[Context available here]
I started this poem shortly after I started living by myself. I was extremely depressed and slept through the days. Ironically, the location of my apartment didn't help - the 3rd floor with my balcony overlooking an active graveyard where funerals took place often.

This poem is based off of real events. As I laid there in my bed one morning (or late afternoon), I was woken by a funeral. Frustrated and mad that a sound that I though was coming from my neighbor (the walls were thin) was forcing me awake. This was my journey that afternoon, waking up and realizing what was going on. Still mad that it woke me by the way.

I didn't finish this poem till the end of 2025 (I started it in 1987). I don't know why I couldn't finish it then but it is one of the more complicated poems I've done and I wanted to get the pace of it perfected. It is my favorite poem by far.