Lonely Winter Desert
R RoseAnn V. Shawiak
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Signaling an emptiness of sorts, filling me interiorly with displaced tears, setting me up to be lonely in the coming days.
Sitting in front of a cold, empty fireplace, feeling no warmth being emitted, no conversation being carried on, just sitting alone on a bear rug in the middle of my winter desert.
Feeling hopelessly lost, wary of any contact, yet, looking, hoping, for the one person who'll seek me out and befriend me in the loneliness of last days on earth.
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