A Weeping Willow Mourns
My prison cell is loneliness.
My cries and murmurings confess
that bars invisible now press
and paralyze with heavy stress
and desolation. May God bless
those deeply mired in misery,
too sad to pray expectantly,
the isolated ones like me.
Weeping willows mourn and sigh
for melancholy ones who cry.
not autobiographical
January 22, 2018, entered in Brian Strand's Middle-January Standard
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Copyright © Janice Canerdy | Year Posted 2018
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