RoseAnn V. Shawiak
Where arrows walk down silent pathways in the forest,
deepest withdrawal stirs in moments of despair.
Empty, totally stepping in mires of sorrow, like mud
covering your shoes.
Looking about, seeing trees thickly grown together,
no way out until you are upon them.
Forever taking handfuls of stones, leaving trails
behind, hoping to be found.
Life stretches, pulls itself apart, folds in upon
itself and hides.
Hides beneath the coverlet of suicide.
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Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (Withdrawal by RoseAnn V. Shawiak )
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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