Writing!

Poetry :

Prose :

Uncertainty

Widowed

alone and lost somewhere between
the present and the past
every day she comes to terms
it happened all too fast

she ate up those who came her way
strangers drawn to toxic trapping
sun-bleached skeletons that float
always spinning weaving wrapping

isolated in her mistrust
connections made by thread so thin
words swollowed whole make it better
float away piece by piece on the wind

she spins a web to pass the days
to hide from pitying smiles
when two are one but one is lost
they both are lost awhile