Sunday, October 25, 2015

Becoming The Poem

Perhaps once erased a poem can start,  yet how to end while just beginning to question why the light lifts a little earlier today than yesterday as the sun sets over open water, darkening tips of sails and folding closed the wings of open clouds.

Maybe writing is the medium that permits movement after, against, along, amid, through, across, and beyond. Words as protection, as projection - and though my powers are not perfect, this is what I have decided to do with my life just now: I will begin as poet, then slowly become the poem.

1 comment:

  1. "folding closed the wings of open clouds" -- like it!