Alone

Afternoon dwindles—
I sit in my back yard.
The letter is crumbled
and stained now
the ink is worn—
smeared like the worn
words seared
in my mind.
It’s okay,
it doesn’t need to be read
not anymore.
The sun, barely peeping
above the Earth’s crust
is burning yellowish
orange thorns of light
toward the heavens.
I feel alone—so alone that
it seems the world is empty.
I lean my head back
on the wooden fence
behind me.stargirl22
Then I see it—
just one star
a sparkling flicker of light
alone in the universe
just as I.

Sharon Palmeri
Copyright Library of Congress 1965

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About Sharon

Sharon Palmeri received her BS degree in English and journalism from Indiana University Northwest and IU Bloomington. As a published author she has taught in all areas of writing for 20+ years, and has had over two hundred articles and stories published in magazines and newspapers. She freelances as a ghost writer, editor, book doctor, publicist, and publication consultant. She also has worked as content editor, adviser and book layout designer.
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