Restive

I awake. Bereft.

Strange possessions and people fill the house.

We are losing our home.

My safe place.

It’s just a bad dream.

I arise to a bigger loss.

Of innocence.

Again.

So much effort unrewarded.

So many things unchanged.

How much longer can I presume goodness?

How many more times can I show my soul?

Questions to sleep upon,

And rise again.