2022-04-28T09:45:38-07:00May 25th, 2012|Creativity|

How to make words surrender

Some poets are hulking ships of patience,
moored by a lilac tree
or a laundromat
for the words to drip out.

Other poets are flirtatious,
sidling up next to the smells,
yes, a cemetery can flirt back
and so they charm it
into revealing
its backstory.

I don’t know any other way
except to bully the world.

I am greedy and fast,
I’m a poet on a deadline,
and the remarkable thing is how they all surrender,
like today,
as I stood on the deck.

If I hadn’t seen the elm tree
fling her seeds into the wind,
I would have sworn
the sky was coated
in butterflies.

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