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2020-11-17T16:07:41-05:00October 23rd, 2020|Creativity|

Living with writers

I wonder how my daughter manages
living with three writers,

her dad’s eyes glazing over
as he watches a scene in his novel
play out in the air between them,

or her brother,
who is writing
his own novel about dragons,
interrupting everyone
as he constantly yells
for synonym advice
from the top floor,

or me,
my face lighting up
every time I trap
something sweet.

She threads her life between us,
quietly going about the job
of being content,
so today I put my pen down
as she taught me
something important
without saying anything at all:

allow your moments
to be vast and unruly
for as long as you can
before your mind
tugs at them,
sliding them
into the final shapes
of words.

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