Thursday, June 16, 2011
Sunday, June 12, 2011
As she sits in the rocking chair
she rocks with an intensity
that of course leads no where
In her utterly
f
r
a
g
i
l
e
state
anxiety flows through her like a muddy river
she waits
and waits
for the quaking
in her veins to cease
Nerves are as s.h.a.tt.e.r.ed
as the vintage wine bottle
as the vintage wine bottle
that lays at her feet
Her heart soars with love and contentment
that NO words can describe
BUT
Her mind is a restless wind
which can not be contained
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