I'm often asked by inquisitive minds;
As a poet, what do you do?
My answer feigns the illusive,
With hope to the rare and few.
I seek to express the human condition;
With words that color & texture, the tapestry that I weave . . .
Though at times the product seems unfinished,
And an area rug, is the remnant I leave.
Copyright © Timothy Mattson | Year Posted 2021
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