Beverly M. Collins: The Mist

It’s 8:30 pm. I become aware of the cold

Temperature of the station bench through

My clothing. The train’s headlight appears

On the track, a distant sun blinking so far off

There is no warmth from its rays.

The feeling draws me back to our afternoon

Meeting announcement that a re-organization

Is about to disorganize my life and reveal

Accumulated dust in its corners

It’s funny how one sentence can tighten temples,

Add pepper and vinegar to a fresh cup of coffee

And suck all the air from the room at the same time.

These moments come out of the mist,

Bringing a chilly foul odor with a perfume label.

An appointment with insomnia placed before

Me with the dash of a stiff smile

Back at my desk, my attention creeps over

To the upside. I recalled insomnia visiting me with

Increased frequency over the past two years.

Let me see: demands, aching hands and insomnia

Versus insomnia and a new start. The cup before

Me was suddenly half full. It is not too sweet, but it

Has some cream.


(First published in Poetry Letter and Literary Review, CSPS)

Beverly M. Collins is the author of the books, Quiet Observations: Diary Thought, Whimsy and Rhyme and Mud in Magic. Her works have also appeared in California Quarterly, Poetry Speaks! A year of Great Poems and Poets, The Hidden and the Divine Female Voices in Ireland, The Journal of Modern Poetry, Spectrum, The Altadena Poetry Review, Lummox, The Galway Review (Ireland), Verse of Silence (New Delhi), Peeking Cat Poetry Magazine (London), Scarlet Leaf Review (Canada), The Wild Word magazine (Berlin), Indigomania (Australia) and more.

light trails on highway at night


After a few weeks of incredible movement, I took a great pause for myself to rest and reflect today. It’s been a marvelous time, filled as much by old faces as familiar ones, all of which have signaled towards a great future for us in the days and years ahead.

But it’s been a tumultuous path to get here. Great work takes great sacrifice, and as the future looms, so does the prospect of…more work.

It’s amazing, to realize that work is what we’re somehow made for. Whether it’s to work to serve another cup of coffee, or to work to make the next great technology, or to work to simply get out of bed, the world has been built by the act of people reaching from within to make great things outside of themselves.

I am as grateful as I am humbled by the process; we are bringing up the world around us as much as we’re bringing up the world after us, just like those before us did too.

With this in mind, perhaps it isn’t just a trivial thing to greet the world again tonight, or to bid it a good night.

Instead, maybe bidding one more “good night” is one of the greatest achievements of a life that’s still here, the greatness of which is rivaled only by the wonderful act of getting up to note another “good morning.”

I don’t know, but I guess there’s only one way to find out.

Good night L.A., and

Good morning!