Tweak
A lady at a window writing,
measuring her words with strict precision.
She takes a sip of ginseng tea
to fuel her imagination.
Memories go drifting by - a brother
playing basketball, the softness
of a springtime rain, the anger
of an autumn sky, a flash,
and thunder rumbling.
Sights, smells and sounds
are grist to her mill. Nothing spoils
her view until her best attempt is done,
but still dissatisfied she tweaks
and fiddles, substitutes a weak word
for a stronger one. At last content
she sets aside her pen.
Copyright © Keith Bickerstaffe | Year Posted 2016
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