To me…there is the possibility of
fear of what is known
fear of the unknown.
To me…there is the possibility of…
strange thoughts submerged in routine.
Always an angst devil looking over my shoulder…misinterpreting what I mean.
A heart so full it reaches into the throat.
Tranquility resides nearby…but never takes off her coat.
Panic, panic, say what?
Don’t panic, don’t panic…
the only words that I can breathe.
I look inward to a wild rose bush with thorns…
the beauty does not relieve.