RoseAnn V. Shawiak Poems

Listening to water babbling and traveling along lengths
of cement trawls, flowing into a circular fountain.

Noticing stones and coins sitting translucently upon
...

Washing tears on washboards
situated inside.

Cleansing them until they
...

Reaching into depths of interior thinking,
looking for chests of forgotten memories,
hoping to dust them off and watch them
careen across the screen of subconsciousness.
...

Tired of sitting in bowls of life with everything
weighing upon little shoulders, pressing selves
into small round bottoms.
...

Soliciting silence from within, hearing it's calming
voice bring peace to my soul.
Wandering darkness through a desert of life, following
instinct, inherent to an interior quiet.
...

Galloping through measures of altitude, climbing
mountains with the accuracy of a delicate
instrument.
...

Tiers of seats filled with people, some at dizzying
heights.
All gathered to watch some men run around a field,
touching three bases.
...

Locating rhythms of intelligence in every song I hear
and write to.
Paled in comparison are the spoken words, leading
seldom to any type of inspiration of truth.
...

Moving quickly, fingers flying
as they rhythmically put words
into my mind, exciting my brain
stem into classical wonder and
...