Quiet Pockets Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

In the lonely, echoing halls of tomorrow,
peace eludes and contains itself in corners.

Wary of strangers and voices telling lies.
Peculiarly hesitant whenever anyone comes
near.

Standing apart from the world as it turns
constantly in another orbit far from this
one.

Scanning lights, fall silently upon memories
of yesteryear, tokenly skirting their
essence by slipping past edges, frayed from
constant misuses,

Allowing the vantage point of youth to
penetrate and become one with the future.

Celebrating the deepened recollections
tucked safely in quiet pockets filled with
doily-like whisperings.

Too quaint - too distant - to be included
in any agendas or plans today.

Saved by the blinders of pent-up emotion
and slid under the doorstep of humanity.