Slowly Walking Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Slowly walking down lanes of turmoil and strange premonitions
that are being laid to rest in a cold desert night while every-
one feels the bite of a cold evening.

Crossing and re-crossing avenues alone while thinking, breaking
even in the midst of another decade coming upon us here in the
sacredness of night.

Surprising and leveling the playing field, posing as a player
of music while playing and picking at the guitar, trying to
settle down in an empty crowded room once upon a time.

One that can never return in time without a selected option
of rhythm to be rehearsed in depths of another night, a place
of decent moderation that quietly slips away into a nether world.