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2011-11-27T23:21:00-05:00November 27th, 2011|Creativity|

Chasing my muse

I chase my muse
clumsy and exasperated
as though attempting to catch a cat.

My mood is too brittle for patience
so I set out the bait
the reliable sequence:

a walk
a coffee shop
anything by Amy Hempel.

I wait like a vise
but my mind lays limp
hollow rustle of white noise
like slippers shuffling
no colour
no hard edges
of words.

I admonish her
then promptly beg for forgiveness
for isn’t the magic of a muse
the same threat that it could disappear.

The day swallows the sun
but my fingers remain dormant
like the Queen’s Guard
all geared up and inconsequential.

I am falling asleep
when she nestles her idea
into my head
unflustered
gentle
as though she was waiting the whole day
for me to retreat
so she could drop off her gift
and slip away.

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