from her stern face <br /> it seems that she only had certainty <br />her face is square like most windows <br />but hers is different since it is always closed <br />like the one for winter <br />during summer when the clouds are blue <br />and the skies are clear <br />and so beautiful to watch with the sun <br />and the greenness of the world out there <br />she is still stern <br />closed <br /> <br />i may believe her firmness <br />but i have never known what is inside here <br />for judging her is beyond the openness of my door <br /> <br />one day she fell in a hole <br />no one knows who dug it along the usual path where she takes her walk <br />and she broke a bone and despite the skill of her doctor <br />she never knew how to walk again <br /> <br />her eyes sank like a boat to the ocean <br />her cheeks shrank like a cake dough short of yeast <br />she fell short of faith <br />like a candle eating her own body <br />until it consumed its light <br /> <br />doubt mounted on her like the dust of her furniture <br />she became more stern <br />as ever <br />harsh and hard <br />and finally the her window was broken <br />the frame gave in <br />and fell and blown by this strong wind of change <br /> <br />when she met doubt her world shattered into pieces <br />unlike others <br />the rest of us even live in there <br />though uncomfortably <br />but without anger and denial<br /><br />RIC S. BASTASA<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/that-feeling-of-doubt/
