I Am What I Am

My head slightly bent over a table of happiness. My feet, sod with white lilacs, dance merrily to a moon stroke music of twilight night. My finger-tips childishly sip the sweat of quill, like red wine of Mother Earth that runs down the skin of my heart. Down in the chores of primal things I have been to the bowl aquarium, mostly at nights where I breathed and twitched with the fish, trying to catch the warm winks of stars. Ahh, I know all about human arts, although I dabble in the language of my adopted father; still I know how to sketch in my own words a lovely butterfly, fluttering awhile in the night to say hello and to kiss me, ere on a fluffy pillow of dreams I close my eyes. My name is nothing special, but honestly I am what I am… a poetry dancer, dancing with emotions for my fictitious lover. Author’s note: I wrote it in response to “The Invitation to Write”, by Gather Essentials: Writing Challenge, based on Carl Sandburg’s poem “Who Am I?”