Hoping To Become Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Hoping To Become



Stretching through a tunnel to liven up days caught alone with no way to combine participation with anyone else in town.
Cresting, falling back and forth, adjusting sentiments to fit whatever music happens to dance into beings of sustenance.
Tolling on edges, hoping to become part of an etude on a cold winter evening.

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