The Poet/Silly Words

Horse and poem street art

Horse and poem street art (Photo credit: Marshall Astor – Food Fetishist)

I sit, sigh, breathe
and then I weave
such silly words,
like tortured birds,
dreams, sorrow,
moon, love…maybe
tomorrow.
And I hope my knots
can hold fast these thoughts
when by the road
I leave them.
Wondering if you’ll stop,
pick up what I dropped,
and when you read,
believe them.

I don’t do rhyming poetry, so I don’t know why I did this. But I did. And that’s the poet’s lot, I guess. You don’t ask why or how or what you write, you just write. And then I leave it for you–whoever You are–to pick it up and do with it what you will.

There! Done! Sorry for the litter.

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11 thoughts on “The Poet/Silly Words

  1. I picked up on a comment you made on Facebook to a FriesenPress piece – we just write down those voices in our head – what else can we do. Decided to hop over to your blog – glad I did. Nice poem – even it if isn’t your regular sort of thing.

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