Thanks For the Idea Hank
I read a poem of Hank’s and something caught me happy
Suddenly my own poem came flipping out of my mind.
She skidded down my nose and skipped onto the page, slip slappy.
I watched her progress; she was a marvelous new find.
The pig has flown, she said with a laugh. Shown, hone, cone, bone.
I would have to be an idiot not to follow her creative thinking.
Loan, groan, tone, zone I whispered; I wrote down pinecone and alone.
Let’s get it on paper quickly she urged me, her hazel eyes still winking.
Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2022
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