Rough waters wash over

slick  wooden slivered edges

Spilling frigid waters of fear

and little pin-pricks of pain 

to weary and numb worn limbs,

in the deepening darkness

of this emotional torrent, 

meyself,  like a storm shaken

life boat barely bouyant

 sailing between swales,

searching skies for signs

 of an eventual end to 

these sun shunned days.

 

 

~~~~

Hello again, it’s been a while, thought I’d add a new poem and a drawing (be it ever so humble).  I, obviously, used the drawing as the seed topic of poem.

I will stop being a slacker and post more often, I promise.  Not that I have had anyone pleading with me to add more poems…ha! 

Thanks all!

Enjoy!

~angry