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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Comments about this poem (Withdrawal by RoseAnn V. Shawiak )
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