RoseAnn V. Shawiak
Tracing Patterns Of Delight
Strands of light flowing past the room,
looking for a place of residence in this
lonely, old world.
Tracing patterns of delight into circles,
holding onto blossoms of newly-born roses.
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The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
William Ernest Henley
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