Old Scribe
Old Scribe
Dry and pointed, it bleeds nothing.
Scratch, scratch, scratch, it tears the paper.
Clang, it hits the bottom of the trash bin.
She frowns and retrieves it.
Licks the end and dabs the well.
The knobby fingers gracefully draw it across the page.
It bleeds freely in the eloquent strokes on the parchment.
July 10, 2020
Copyright © Lee Yokel | Year Posted 2020
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment