In My Writing 

I am winding through the words,

Bringing a voice to the page, waiting

To be heard, Listen to the thoughts

Rambling on, some caught, while others

Lost, through fragrant meadows, on top

Treacherous plateaus, down slippery

Slope’s, and in crevices cracked

Crumbling, no joke, my voice is

My pen, no longer stuck

In my throat.