i would find you
between sun-dried flowers
spent, tongue rolled back
from screaming at the top
of your lungs
hoping to get my attention
forgive me
if i am waddling these days
with my head buried
in numbers
i miss seeing you
in colorful shirts & hats
peeking from wherever
your fancy takes you
but when i am alone
in a silent
and reflective mood
you come
unbidden, unchecked, unfiltered
knocking me out
of my city comfort
you are the stealthy driver
of this imaginary car
bringing me drops-
a green spiraled tendril
a phrase left beside my teacup
a stitch of a fading memory
i gather them
into my pockets
lined by moon dust
trusting time
that old gardener
to tend what lies unseen
beneath the page
and you
arrive-
ink, insight, the inglorious beat
of something
i knew before
but somehow forgot
you place it here
an open palm
and i am blown away
by the thought
that my <best> poems
are still walking
toward me
Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Ars Poetica Revisted - Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST. Happy summer break!!!!!
I love that glorious ending... and I agree that is what keeps us writing. Happy upcoming break
ReplyDeleteThe perfect title for your ars poetica, Grace; we are all works in progress, especially poets. You brought your muse to life, like a reincarnation of van Gogh, ‘between sun-dried flowers’ in ‘colorful shirts & hats’. These lines resonate with me:
ReplyDelete‘you come
unbidden, unchecked, unfiltered’
and
‘a green spiraled tendril
a phrase left beside my teacup
a stitch of a fading memory’.
I also love the assonant list of three: ‘ink, insight, the inglorious beat’.
so evocative Grace - they way the poet addresses the poetry of poetry - those italicised drops like first lines to set the poem in motion
ReplyDelete