The Words of Judith K. Witherow
	Poetry
	Chaos In the quiet of the riot, when the reason trickles in. When the heat of hatred passes, and the surge of violence ends. As the smoke and ashes settle, blotting out the noonday sun. Will we pause to seek new answers yet maintain the past again?     And, Oh There was that time you didn’t see me watch you swirl wildly beside the swollen creek about to leap with rain pure intoxication across banks aching to embrace you also Another day you sat with stiff bowed back and upraised knees as if protecting self from memory Curly tossed hair covers the pale face pressed into trembling hands frozen in yet another lover’s time And, oh She Walks Our moon sparse house barely catches a glimpse of comings and goings. Shadows traced on the vacant walls leave old jagged outlines of a life. Wind brushed trees rustle leaves against the panes, scratching a bereft refrain. Will your body slip between slivers of darkness and light shadowing the watchers sight? The wistful one awaits slight creaking upon the splintered boards. Bare feet don’t allow much sound to echo warning for one held captive by need. Where’ve you been again my Woman?
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