The Page
staring at the page again
i bled out all i have
like there is nothing to imagine
reached to the farthest archive
no lines come to mind
just last week i was writing them blind
of love, family ,death, fantasy and the
haiku kind
if i think about looking back
i could be there in a heart attack
and the page does not have to be blank
i write what i know and what i don’t
can have rhythm and flow
a meaning or a deep reason
can have fact or a little fiction
from something to nothing
as i stare at the page ,
i see a poem
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