Walls cradled her and I found her here crying through broken eyes A cane rolling white into the middle of a black linoleum floor
Alone she was When she was clawing her way back into almost black But informed, not even the shadows will spare her
I leaned against the door
And standing across from her I cried too Yet felt like the hunter watching blood drain from a deer in Winter
I stayed until Spring. I wonder if she knew.
Hi, my name is Elaine. I’m a lover and creator of both poetry and abstract art. I have been writing for almost 20 years and feel that Pen to Paper is an almost cleansing of my soul.
I often write after the fact… reflecting and hoping that I will feel relief from the conflict deep within me. I sometimes do, I sometimes not. And that’s ok. I grow, nonetheless.
I hope my words touch you, or at least make you question. And if you find yourself curious, I’m on Instagram, where there is more sharing of my soul (oh and of my cats too): @elaine.waddell.art
Oh, by the way! I’m nearing completion of my dusty manuscript. A little book I’m going to self-publish and sell through Amazon. A collection of my favorite poetry and paintings that I made over the past 15 years. Watch out for it… Overhearing the Heart. Thank you. (My website will be released again once updated).
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