Diary by PD Lyons




Dust in the corner

Pale light through loose boards

Soft paper pages partially filled

So small

The world with all its bigness

Could have so easily passed by.


Will we, all of us leave the same absence?

Know the same impossible loneliness,

As if somehow shared, we could know one another ,


We have all touched this world with little fingers,

As have I;

Not as some imagining or speculation

But as a human being.

Certain of my own sense of purpose.

So many things bigger than me.

So many things I could not wait to do.

How long it takes to be a grown up.


Unlike you I do know the story’s end.

Unlike you I could not, not know.

Remember me this way:

Small as I was, it all fit into my life.

(for Anne)

wrote this about five years ago. sent a version of this to a publication that was putting together works about Anne Frank.  they never responded – one of the things I hate about editors is the no response, almost as bad as the acceptance but not paying the prize or fee.  anyway saw that today or yesterday would have been her 84th birthday. so much sorrow buried in the common clay of all our hearts.

sometimes autumn is all there is

sometimes autumn is all there is


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  • Salvatore Ala  On June 1, 2014 at 5:52 pm

    That’s the way publishers and editors are. They haven’t a clue. Your poem is wonderful. Thank you for sharing it.


    • pdlyons  On June 2, 2014 at 10:22 am

      thank you very much for taking the time to read it. i do appreciate your kind support. all the best to you.


  • pdlyons  On April 21, 2020 at 8:26 pm

    Reblogged this on Pdlyons's Explorations.


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