Poetic Siesta I


As I draw close to the page once again

And the mind mounts the staircase

The fingers create the words

The critics-helmet goes on

The sifting of thoughts by the same maker of thoughts

The stops and starts – reflecting – on reflection

Standards vary – jury’s out – mini-decisions are made

And a manuscript – shuttles out from the printing machine

Out of the mind onto the white

A poem – not a thing of beauty or a joy forever

But a poem just the same – stirs you – to take the time

Or helps you – close your mind

What will it be today? Will you rise to the challenge?

Or has all that food made you sleepy?

Put the poem away – and live to read another day

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