Fragile Tenderness
R RoseAnn V. Shawiak
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Sitting, wondering with eyes, the feelings stirring inside,
their touch soothing yet ripping apart fragile tenderness
held within.
Fraught with the newness of very recent loss, singly
tormented in the hallway, darkness beckoning to no one and
getting lost in caverns of despair.
No idle wandering, cold bare facts of reality staring into
your soul unblinkingly, raking it through the hottest coals
of death.
Taking with it the fragrant scent of painful loss, crawling
onto a ledge, wanting to fall off and die also, in the face
of insistent pain.
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