By Susan Shea I wake up in my high count sheets threadbare thin in spirit today feeling perishable I gasp for soul I need fresh air the inner life I need to take excursion to the ancient paths to find a perch to see them from above I’ll find a ferris wheel oh wheel refresh my drive take me to the highest place to rest to heal my bones make wise my simple make me know again all bliss comes from a turn return to sacred Susan Shea is a retired school psychologist who was born in New York City and now lives in a forest in Pennsylvania. She has returned to writing poetry in 2023, and this year she has been published in several dozen journals including Ekstasis, The Bluebird Word, Last Stanza Poetry Journal, The Bookends Review, Poetry Breakfast, Book of Matches Literary Magazine and The Agape Review, as well as three anthologies. Recently, she has had poems accepted for Feminine Collective, Military Experience and the Arts, Tiny Wren, Crowstep Poetry Journal, Green Ink Poetry, The Avalon Literary Review and Clayjar Review.
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