Antique Remedies Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Crossing lines, creating bridges, climbing into canyons, always looking, searching for antique remedies to life's ills.
Never finding choices, only theories, as I walk ever onward into another dimension far from anyone else.
Nothing matters except what I find in darkened corners of my mind.
Selecting only images that strike my mind with a force of desires held too long interiorly.
A lifetime secluded, hidden in many words of verse.