- 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
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