By Sara, member of Brand New Aspiring Writers
there’s no inner strongholds
left for surrender
no bunker I could burrow into
in myself
no hearth
no warmth
no happy home
no lovely soul
there is a vast echoless wasteland
withering within
and that
that is all there is
Read more of her work at The Shores of My Dreams.
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The writers showcased on this site are all members of Brand New Aspiring Writers at Yahoo Groups.
2 comments:
I like how the poem moves from what there is not, to what there is, which ironically is nothing. The 3rd stanza creates psychological room for this transition. The last line, especially with the repetition of "that" works very nicely.
Thank you, Brian, for stopping by here. This blog is still trying to get off the ground and every comment is greatly appreciated.
Sara
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