Ellen Rogers Inspired Poetry:
I am sitting here - at a time - when all of the roads of your life converge on you. The present - it seems to crackle a little. Perhaps your fingers sting from carrying a load, perhaps your ears rush from coming in from the cold. Yet you are nowhere else but here. A moment - hard won - of respite in an otherwise structured day. Where crossroads did appear, yet couldn’t hear a voice of reason to ask - “Where do I go now?” or “Who am I?” … wandering through a somewhat ghostlike version of a usually intimidating venue. Somehow it is warm, and somehow fellow travellers make it warmer still.
Of you, whom will decorate my sill.
Of you, for whom I will exit this warm hearth in the name of practicality.
It is so quiet now. I could stay forever.