What do you want?
A dream, a plum, a day without wind?
In the kitchen, light patterns the tile floor.
Cups stained with tannin and use
litter the table with morning.
Outside, blue sky opens to budding leaves.
The horses roll in the meadow,
combing winter hair on dry earth.
A telephone rings.
On the screen, a stream of silent voices
roar in words, hashtags, and links,
the flickering lines coursing courage.
Is it the assault you fear?
Does their noise drown out your feeble yearnings?
The cursor, an impatient tick of anticipation,
blinks a blank page.
What are you waiting for? Inspiration?
***Note, I know I’m not a great poet, but it seemed the right form for my thoughts today. You are welcome to comment, but don’t shred me. I’m a little naked right now. 🙂