a poem by Jan Oskar Hansen

It’s overcast this morning
words are racing around in my head
but won’t come out and play
A forgotten song I used to sing
when driving late night
roads struck by illness of rejected love.
The sense of being discarded seeing her face,
castles and other dreamy things in the sky.
If only the first word would come others will follow.
Mind, the clouds have parted,
sun warms my face
and that’s all I care about just now.