Almost Alone
The book reads itself.
I live alone except for
you.
The sometimes ghost is
almost gone.
Meditation and prayer my
house guests.
My mind is fall foliage.
I change and change
again.
What will this world
make of me.
Published by Wild Word.
Social Graces
The man unbuttons his
jacket and adjusts his tie.
Something he has done a
million times and will continue to do.
A routine he learned as
he exited the cave and entered polite society.
He shakes hands reaching
over his female companions head.
She endures the
obligatory kiss on the cheek.
Another nod to society.
This social dance is a
solo one.
Gestures acquired
naturally as a safeguard.
Against social failure and conformity.
Still life
There you are standing
still waiting for guidance.
Unsure.
Unable to move-only to
be seen.
The vessel of faith and
hope so close.
Complete your destiny.
With the blessings of
the world.
You could endure pain
and judgment.
A star or a
crucifix.
All things are open.
All options possible.
We must choose.
We must choose well.
To caress with kindness
this still and empty vessel.
The Road made Visible
You take my hand and
fold red ribbons in my hair.
Wisdom leads you through
the fog.
Fields part opening to
wide forests and a road
made visible.
We speak our own
language known only to
infants-the elderly and
the silent.
The ground opens up and
we disappear into a
land of mystics and
saints.
We are driven by unseen
elements.
You speak an unspoken
tongue.
Taught by beings of the
past and souls forgotten.
You communicate with
worlds that have fallen.
Worlds with strange names
become our allies.
You become our
interpreter as we ascend.
Published by Amethyst
Review
Sandy Rochelle is a widely published poet. Publications include, Ekphrastic Review, Dissident Voice, Formidable Woman,Flashfictionnorth, Every Day Writer,Spillwords Press, Impspired, The Poet, Writing in a Woman's Voice, and others.
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