shot glass
"... brevity is the soul of wit ..."
- William Shakespeare


Shannon Joy Wazny lives in a city in the middle of Canada where the seasons and nature demand attention. She has become a quiet person who writes. Shannon enjoys reading her poetry online in a virtual world and is grateful to all those who inspire and amuse her. Shannon has been previously published in Shot Glass Journal and The Fib Review.

Shannon Joy Wazny

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From her flesh I emerged then came to know alone.
Nameless yet, nursing my loss, without hair, alone.

In the sweet embrace of night our moon has the stars.
The sun gives herself away like a prayer, alone.

She ruled the stage and danced upon her trembling heart.
In the spotlight she was no longer there, alone.

As commanded the brave troops charged the daunting hill
until but one young soldier stood there scared, alone.

Though she knew well the sweetness of a lover's touch,
after she breathed the last of her life's air, alone.

So many cowering dreamless behind closed doors.
Their fight drained from them under all their cares, alone.

I stand a seeking poet breathing unshared air.
Hearing no heartbeat but my own I swear. Alone.