Interior Catacombs Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak
Interior Catacombs
Alone in a hallway, leading to interior catacombs,
searching for early writings of heaven and God.
Looking through each cell along the way, feeling
the intimate atmosphere of the past, crowding
around my mind.
A musty odor filling my nostrils, bringing me
backwards into a darkened enclosure.
Feeling around, touching stale maneuvers of
yesterday's monks.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/4/2024 8:46:11 AM # 1.0.0.1119
