You take up the instrument
of your art.
Cut a raw chunk of
your heart for bait,
cast as far into your
imagination as possible,
and wait for something
to strike.
Then you reel it in.
Slowly and with craft.
With luck you have
caught a poem.
But quite often, just when you
think you’ve got it,
it simply slips away,
leaving you alone,
frustrated and bewildered.
Hoping it might be
another cast away.
Poetry is ephemeral;
difficult to catch;
when sought.
hard to hold onto,
easily lost when caught.
All you can do is
keep the poem in play
and hope to land it
another day.
Relephant Favorite:
Henry Miller & I Think you Need to Stink!
~
Author: Mike Essig
Editor: Travis May
Photo: Flickr/Vera Yu and David Li
Read 1 Comment and Reply
Read 1 comment and reply