poem and artwork by Ruth Schiffmann

 

Crisp leaves break under my step;
I’ve lost my way.
The wind spins around me
Crossing my path, stirring my center, swaying my certainty.
My heart plods against the weight of unbelief
Rousing the scents of a past: familiar, forgotten.
Uncertainty unleashed spreads wide in front of me
I kick through dead forest cast offs and hope for life.

© 2011, Ruth Schiffmann

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