RoseAnn V. Shawiak
Wind songs energizing my mind, galloping through the
deserts in abandoned haste, wanting only to lose
myself in depths of this inner wasteland.
Causing abbreviated mysteries as they show themselves
for moments in pauses of time left open in anchored
strains of music.
Hiding incessantly on the bridles of my horse in a
dream of reality left over from days when I was so
much younger than I am now.
Believing in something larger than myself, going
forward to grasp it with both hands before it fades
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