|
Tunnels
by Ann MillsIn the tunnels of my mind
Lies waiting
Empty gray
dark & dank
to black
Thoughts nothing
Echo thru my mental maze
of tunnels
Shadow moving
Whispers lurking
Burning my brain
What can it mean?
I can sense pain
So here I stop.
Trapped in a maze with nowhere to go
but around
swirling down
to the ground
like a child
going wild
At the community playground.
04/04/1994 Posted on 07/22/2007
Copyright © 2025 Ann Mills
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Glenn Currier on 08/01/07 at 10:28 PM Your most impressionistic poem, wrought from a Spirit in the midst darkness.... yet... creating a space for light in that moment of stuckness in the maze. The light is the poem and you made it. |
| 
