RoseAnn V. Shawiak Poems

Talking to one another throughout the years, learning and
educating each other in earnest, never forgetting respect
or dignity at the center of our every conversation.
...

Rocking to thrills of another evening here at the Wagon Yard,
being amongst friends and strangers alike, all of us with an
intense love of music.
...

Tapping out mysteries of an interior darkness kept hidden
below the surface, never seeing the light of day, exposing
us to essentials of another form of enlightenment.
...

Chords being struck, densely and purposely in reflections
of yesterday's shadows, playing and frolicking, being taken
into playgrounds of memories no longer valid today.
...

Music being picked and strummed by a lively band of musicians
always in synch with one another, graduating and entering
measures that add up in enticing products of our energy.
...

Spattering paint all over the place through notes of musical
interludes, trying many different patterns and designs, over-
flowing from memories of the past.
...

Exercising rights, God-given and those of our Constitution,
enjoying the spiritual freedom and all others mandated by
our forefathers before us.
...

Knocking on doors of vacant homes, talking to ourselves,
for no one wants to hear our thoughts or opinions these
days.
...

Waiting for life to catch up with what I'm thinking of,
hoping both will coincide and attune to rhythms of my
soul as I flow in synch with an interior spirituality.
...

Stranded on an island of loneliness, bereft and filled with
an unending emptiness, drained of life, existing in a vacuum
of humanity.
...