Shivering

my hands are trembling
on your story
of a plot that vibrates
with fear
like the leaves of an aspen
one autumn breeze

like i were a child
quaking always
asking for more

like the quivering
poplar tree

my shaking knees
on shaky feet

i changed perspective
about this
shivering

i must see
the sparkling lights
from some shivering
crystals
of the chandeliers
of this
old house

where this family
of mine
still thrive

wanting to get
rid of
trembling hands

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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