Illusive Muse

Illusive muse Where did you go How long must I linger this time Cruel sweet Mother of Songs The wide eyed child poet waits somewhere in a closet behind the skeletons behind the guilt where confidence was spiders silk and glistened with geometric truth The muses danced around me holding candles they were dressed in primary colors they moved the pen again and again and opened doors of ink One by one they moved on each waving goodbye as she danced away Now I grasp at abstract straws I milk the thick and drying sap from strained memories What was once a labor of love now struggles to be a love of labor I stare blank into a starving white sea