This poem is dedicated to anyone who is struggling.


Low, is a place
that well I know;
dark and alone, time slows;
eerie light, shadow.


Low, is a place
that devours all space;
brings tears to my face;
stabbing pains of disgrace.

Low, is a place
too well I know;
where I grudgingly go;
when the demons say so.

Low, is a place
known not to the young;
a foul taste on the tongue;
a black song harshly sung.

Low, is a place;
vile air, so gritty;
tiny thoughts, itty-bitty;
eternal home of self-pity.

But Low, is just a place.
That. I now know.
Like a bad dream so
awful, but only a show.

Low, is just a place;
a lonely blacktop
to cross. A shop
to pass, not stop.

Low, is a just a place
like dung in the soil.
It’s stench rotten, yet does it toil
so new growth may roil.

Low, is a just a place;
a pausing space to be;
a vantage point to see
those most dear to me.

Low, is just a place
from which to measure
the memories of pleasure
and the people I treasure.

Low, is just a place
which I must go;
to reflect, then to grow
in love that I already know.

Eric Winger

April is National Poetry Month

About Eric Winger

Our perception of time is key to how we use our time. The most fundamental way to change that perception is to give our time. This opens us up to new opportunities and ideas from which we can build to really make a difference. ... Yes, we *do* have time to make a difference!
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3 Responses to Low

  1. Natalie says:

    Kinda feelin’ it today…

  2. I spent several hours there yesterday afternoon….a reminder from “the past,” which then became present…what a deep place it can be….and was thankful, last evening, to read your dedication to those who are struggling, wisdom and reassurance. Today….fine again…thankfully so.

  3. Eric Winger says:

    We all struggle from time to time, but hopefully during those struggles we can recognize, however dim, that our struggles are temporary if we choose them to be.

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