In three years I’ve written more – poems, articles, fiction – than I have in the thirty years of writing prior.
Getting Down to Work
The words are sluggish tonight,
cranky, wanting to be left alone,
eager to slip back into the quiet.
I won’t let them though. I poke
at them, run a pencil across
the legs of my desk. Anything
to rattle their nerves, make
them choose the page and its plane
of relative freedom. If they won’t
fall in line with my plan, I’m calling
in the enforcer. Happy to be of use,
my right pointer finger has no
problem with putting out an “i”.
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Tip for tonight’s poem
I really liked Brenda’s poem and want her to continue writing great poems.