Still I Sit Here Staring

Still I sit here staring Sitting there in open form…breathing, savoring a moment that claims the eyes Collecting thoughts in a simmering row of pasted visions on the curtains of a smile… claiming nothing out of the sort ~fingers dance the moonlight along a sleepless trail pecking seems the order as endings never fail~ Glowing like an ember fused, beneath a mantle trimmed and shorn Hidden in the lonely darkness once presented in a cluttered dream of pine cone cushions and wicker trimmed French kisses ~words of stained glass meanings in shadows on the pew shaped to form the pattern as light evades the view~ Groans of indecision plague this page, smudged and weary, scribble in fury and folded neatly Edges meet in distracting lines on crossword clues reaching down across the face of what I have done ~ink it merely scratches the surface of the night still I sit here staring with nothing left to write~