Tomorrow Mourning
By Bonnie Hechtman 
At the end of the dock,
at the cabin
at night;
I still all alone
with a chill
from the wind –
that’s whirling a sad song
all of its own.
It’s lonely in darkness.
Time seems to stand still.
All the world is leeping – but me.
I must stay awake
and hope
that tomorrow will come.