Yesterday.
I sat in a pile of crunchy leaves,
if only for 10 minutes,
to relieve some stress and
sketch a bit.
Today.
I sat in the cafe' with pen in hand
to record that which occurs
whilst we are busy with our own
entrees.
I'd almost forgotten how
sometimes,
poetry throws a rope around my neck,
relentless,
and won't allow me to do
live
act
breathe
until I encounter it.
Life in language,
life in my breath,
life in poetry.
So,
let it be.
Love.
ReplyDelete(That is poetry at its simplest.)
Air + Love + Life
(i am sorry that i wasn't there to breathe out poetry with you. but i cannot wait to read it.)
I feel the same way about today.
ReplyDeleteWords consume me sometimes.
Leaves and good food and people watching and wind and rain (don't forget the rain).
That kind of week can only mean poetry is coming, poetry is here.
I am so delighted that you can take a simple evening in a cafe and turn it into a poem about love and silence and unity. I can't wait to see your finished work, Dottie!