Corduroy Patches Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

End, the end of all thought and practice of ideas, escaping
from this darkened tunnel of life, fearful of the affront
of deadly images crawling forth.

No longer able to walk on, turning upside down within the
passage of time, requiem banners surrounding those of still-
ness, a deafness pounding out the staccato essence of life
now ended.

Pulling from inner straits, leaves of corduroy, patches to
heal the mind, whenever hearing sounds of it's rubbing to-
gether, thoughts gel inside.

When tripping and tumbling out of life, there is no parcel
or particle left to stretch across an ageless span of years.

Totality unanswered, cast in marble stones, placed outdoors
on pedestals of fragile lace, tapered with an overflowing
grace of memories spent, now hidden beneath floors of ugly
remembrance.