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
ReplyDeleteI'm not sure it can be said any better than what you've written here! Fantastic, my friend. One of your absolute best.
ReplyDelete