Rough waters wash over
slick wooden slivered edges
Spilling frigid waters of fear
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