RoseAnn V. Shawiak
A fleet of clouds looking like an armada of ships and submarines
charging slowly into seas of atmosphere, a sky of blue.
Innermost beauty standing on edges of horizons, watching, waiting
to see explosions blast across my vision, sinking ships or
submarines, sending them to the bottom of layers stacked in
readiness, awaiting their ghosts on subsequent shores of tomorrow.
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Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (Innermost Beauty 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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