Yeast of Poetry
Starts bubbling
a desire
yeast from brilliance
of the mind
drops rained
by the Muse
life’s thrashing
adds the flour.
Mixing, churning
springs alive
in the bowel of the
mind.
To the working hand
it sticks
even wakes you when
you sleep.
Pull it, punch it
let it sit
while it bubbles
share the yeast
with a sigh
to inspire
naked child
of poet mother
an uncorked
champagne bottle
celebrating death
or life.
Copyright © Frances Schiavina | Year Posted 2018
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