Thursday, March 17, 2005

My Only Companion

My Calling

Writing poems is my calling
My stanzas are my children
My only companion is my muse
I do not know her name
But I think of her all the time
She visits me in sleep, in verse
In rhyme. I sample her strange soul
My reason represses her
The door slides open
And she glides out
Crippled and stunted
How distant she has become
We grow drunk in the sun
Her day is almost done

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

<< Home