- How Does a Writer Let Go -

with plenty of pain i seem to be comfortable weeping in silence, but the tumbleweeds sway in the mist of spring, and i pray for a way to redeem mother nature’s embrace; for she believes in what i need to long for willows weep for the loss of their blades, chestnut tears leave stains on barren branches, and here i am left alone in a forest too green to see; flashes of lightning scour my deliverance, for i am but a nonetheless notion, full of the kind of resentment satirical apparitions face i crave bright smiles with shiny white teeth- ivory as strong as steel so i can swallow the sore syllables my lips have spoken manic metaphors with a caticalysm of undying rhyme; enough rhyme to ease my soul for I am but a writer, hungry for a way to let go ***** January 17, 2020