RoseAnn V. Shawiak Poems

Reeling from a spiraling reverie situated in my mind,
taking turns wrenching me in two.
Taking steps to turn around, make an about face and
move into another sphere of life where I can be alone.
...

Arriving incognito, volumes left unspoken, silent acquiescence
penetrating my psyche, subjecting me to nether-standings along
life's pathways.
Recognizing facts as I travel, life is so non-committal and
...

Listening carefully to interior feelings, thinking deeply about life
and it's transition from birth through senior years.
What does it all mean anyway?
Is there any cohesive pattern we can write down, so whomever follows us can have some direction?
...

Surreptitiously searching for a place to call my own,
wondering interiorly if it will ever happen in my lifetime.
There's never been a space for me, its always been taken
away time and again.
...

Surrounding me with a sadness, expounding laments single file,
taking me on a journey of explicit grief.
Not caring how I can handle it, just piling it upon my heart
and mind, burying me beyond grave markers, nearer to the sun
...

Looking into puddles, watching reflections shimmer in a morning breeze.
Seeing ripples of brown mud lying at the bottom of another puddle,
looking like it's moving, but in reality it's not.
Noticing branches on a tree, gnarled, brittle, dead.
...

Lengthening shadows hiding me behind death's near doors,
letting me slowly disperse and disappear beyond life and
its unsound reality.
Taking with me, all senses, picturesque and photographic
...

Riding down the mountains in a tour bus, on our way home,
getting caught behind a wide load truck and being forced
to drive real slow behind it.
Going through mountains, rising high into the atmosphere
...

Rocks gathering themselves into small
remote castles of nature's abode,
hiding and protecting animals, reptiles
and insects with unreserved compassion
...

Clouds stretching across a blue sky,
trying to cover it without success
on one side of me.
Yet, on the other side, there's not
...