blank
the intimidation of a blank page for many writers warrants knees clattering together like muted castanets fingers frozen around a waiting pen as if caught in the winter’s first frost retinas fixed in fear at the pureness of paper that words could never pollute.
the whimsical whiteness spurs only visions into my weathered mind – my pen rushing to fill in the humorous stark space with the populations of the heart and sympathies of the soul that overwhelm me. this daily race never won this ever-going struggle never resolved.
another page to be filled
its virgin qualities to be had by my over-zealous pen
copyright Maple de Fische 2004
Tuesday, July 13, 2004
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment