Silence:
At times welcome
But at others
Oppressive;
I cry out
To family
And to friends
Only to encounter
A cold stone wall
Of indifference.
Does anyone hear me?
I pound my fists
Against the rocks,
Breaking nails
And bruising skin,
But it is futile
For I am dead
To them.
(Self-published. Please contact author directly to order.)
Enter the pages of diaspora in quiet introspection. Bathe your thoughts with subtle humor; synchronize your spirit-sense with history-in-heat; fall headlong with eyes wide open into
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Blessings,
Christine