Talented Callings Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Strutting through rhythms as if they own them in voices of talented callings; through rhythm's beating incessantly in times of energetic
solos.

Giving in to special inflections as life adjusts the volume to suit it's solo purpose.

Opening doors, closing windows, not letting any bit of talent escape
from within the boundaries of total immersion.

Thinking through all the details in one sweeping movement of the
wrist and all is gone, as strutting, walking out the back door, no
longer welcome in this atmosphere, needing to go elsewhere.