Clouds Left Me With Sylvia
Sylvia Path 1932-1963 Dead Grass It is agony to feel irrelevant. I wonder if the earth swallowed me anyone would worry I was gone or be more concerned about why the grass won’t grow any more. Walking Dead The sun on my arms feels lonely. As much as I hunger for light my spirit has grown too comfortable with shadows. I’m the walking dead, a candle without a match. Blind Paper I beg ink for something to say. The blind eye of white paper frightens me. So Many Crossroads I took a long walk out of my mind. Insanity had so many crossroads I could never find my way back to me. ©Susie Clevenger 2024