Tuesday, October 5, 2021

The poem



Perched to pounce

on the sheet white page

Ink propels itself

infinite as adrenaline 

from fingertips

feeling for details

Not saying

what was a thought

before

Another word placed

Itself

to getting somewhere closer 

needing a 

tangible witness

to guide.


Painting by August Macke c. 1910, in Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Gravitas

For every poem I put here, there are four more never shared, around six never written and twenty-seven partially thought out. For every word...