Mantra Poem by Chris G. Vaillancourt
Mantra
In plastic bedrooms of chain hotels,
when
I lie awake and try to pretend
I am at home.
When my thoughts turn to
familiar places and
my fingers hope to dial
the numbers of people
I know.
It is then I understand my
flooding emotions which caress
the loneliness that
is my mantra.
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Topic(s) of this poem: places,emotions,loneliness,numbers
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8/23/2026 10:20:47 PM # rel_20260813T193622Z_3aad590
