(A lone voice whispers)
Is one of the soul - satisfying pleasures of creating poetry.
For you.
Searching methodically through your vocabulary, dark enclave.
For that unique word to complete your phrase.
To then present to simulate someone
Chained up to Poetry's fast-moving ship
Like an indentured gallery slave
With your intentions emanating like radioactive electromagnetic waves?
Or are you too, just another gallery slave who just writes poetry?
As you row for you.
Expressing those never-ending whispers, whenever they appear, right out of the blue?
(C)
Copyright John Duffy
Image shared under fair usage policy
No comments:
Post a Comment