Vagabond Poem by Ann Mckeeman

i chase myself…
restless amber thoughts dancing through the corridors of my mind…
the tattered memories, threadbare, worn …are able still
to exert a vise-like grip on my heart…
doors open wherever my gaze lands -
i find the remembering like a tapestry…
woven tightly with the hues of jewel-toned joys
enriched by the texture of rugged sorrows…
…it engulfs me…this fabric..both beautiful
… and suffocating….
and still, i seek the door
that will lead me out of myself…