Buzz of An Idea
Like the buzzing of my alarm clock,
the push to write won't leave me alone.
The drone and buzz of ideas
requiring words continue to haunt me
and whir in my mind.
Not the buzz and drone of a bee,
but the hiss of steam,
like something that must be stopped,
and will only occur if I organize thoughts
and stop the buzzing, droning and whirring.
I hum a tune as I set down ideas
and the buzzing goes from forte to piano;
with the final period the hissing ends,
and the buzzing leaves my mind.
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