The Poets Fall

...and as the words stop flowing the poet lays down the pen as in life there's no way of knowing if it'll be picked up again with a break in the connection of the electricity in poem winter cold in all directions weather outside of the norm over earths plains there comes a silence taking the breath from out the wind nature and poet no longer join in the dance that held them tight within with a dryness to the pages no longer dipping in nor out the well this will go down in the ages as the day the poet fell...