I fear that I’ve just found you,

only to have you slip away,

unmoored and drifting aimlessly

as the river’s current spins,

searching for my anchor

in the dark.




I sit in the quiet room,

allowing the deep stillness,

to slowly silence,

the cachopony of noise

between my ears that ache,

from the steady stream of words

uttered in earnest tones,

until my soul,

screamed for peace.


Tilt Shift

Shadows move against the wall,

shifting and changing shapes with the seasons,

reminding us that the world keeps turning,

long after we are gone.


Marching Towards the Light~ June 1964

On a hot night in June,
they marched.

Marching towards the light,
marching to the freedom,
they were promised long ago.

Linking arms they marched,
black and white,
enslaved and free,
Jew and Christian,
young and old.

Marching to the place where they were once enslaved,
they would not be swayed,
they would march into the crowd of hate filled eyes.

No more casting eyes downward,
no more bowing and scraping,
they were God’s children, too.

They prayed,
they sang the songs of freedom,
as they marched around the market,
where humans were bought and sold,
they met an angry storm,
of rocks, fists and chains~
chains once held them captive,
used to ensnare again.

On a hot day in June they marched~
this time to the sea.
they prayed for peace,
they prayed as blows rained down upon them~
the slurs, the spittle, the hate.

They marched towards the sea,
as the crowds parted
wading into the ocean,
to be baptized in the waters of freedom.

The ones who tried to follow,
were held back,
watching those liberated,
as they danced and sang with joy,
their canticle of praise,
sung to the heavens,
Freedom Now.

©annettealaine 2013

Wild Thing


an itch begins deep inside

to feel the buzz through the soles of my feet,

metal wheels making riotous noise, as I skate across bumpy sidewalks,

to feel my stomach drop

metal chains gripped in my fingers as I soar high, feet touching the sky,

or  to fill my lungs with chlorine perfumed air,

and dive deep to the bottom of the pool,

hair fanning out as this mermaid explores her imaginary cave.

Ah, to be a wild and free once more.



We are myopic creatures~

believing this little niche we occupy is the universe.

We fail to look up often enough,

at the black sky at night and recalibrate,

we stand at the edge of the continent,

waves lapping at our feet,

fixing our eyes on the illusion of the horizon,

forgetting we are perched on the fragile crust

of a pulsing orb of energy.

No, we humans arrogantly believe

the universe bows down to us.



Kitty sits on the arm of the sofa,

staring out the window

at the wet, gray skies,

longing for a patch of sunshine

to smell the briny river,

and watch the Osprey soar

in the blue spring sky.


Love Changes

Love does not change us

just once,

but continues to rub against us,

smoothing our rough edges,

like the softening of a sharp mountain peak,

Love gets inside us,

transforming us,

like carbon into a diamond,

Love is the gift that keeps on giving.



Fog sneaks in,

descending silently~

pulling its gossamer veil

until buidings disappear,

cloaked in misty gray.


My Morning Walk

My walk begins briskly~

through the quiet, black sky

pierced with bright diamonds

that slowly fade,

as the first hint of dawn

changes the sky to blue-gray,

and I slow to a stroll,

as the horizon blazes crimson and gold,