There are other poems
In my mind.
I see them flying by
but have yet to catch them.
The words come at
inopportune times ~ when
away from my pen and paper,
or perhaps in the shower,
or sometimes when I’m out
for a walk. These fly by night
suggestions for poetry never
stop long enough for me
to get pen and paper,
but they do cheer me.
So I keep writing,
filling notebooks and loose leaf
in hopes that one day,
one of the little poems will get
distracted and slip down the barrel
of my pen, tracing itself on the page.
“Poetry is an echo, asking a shadow to dance.”
~ Carl Sandburg