February 2020

The Poet’s Curse

The Poet’s Curse   The muted hush of night,the throb of silence.The “hiss” that hurts.The incessant poundingof a dripping faucet.In the relentless din,a lone candle flickers.Seeks to befriend,quill in hand,the poet? Bleary eyed, ponders,the die cast,forever set?Its sense relegatedmired in the mundane,and yet, onceever so infrequentlya fleeting truth.Nevermore than a thread,a straw in a stack,searches, …

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