Don’t look for brilliant imagery
Concrete images elude me somehow,
This notion is abstract as can be
As I draw spirals on this page now.

Transcribing every circular thought
On the margins of this empty page
As the words I frantically sought
Ran and hid from my impotent rage.

Frightened by the crack of the broken
nib, they left me stranded and distraught.
I called out as they remained hidden
And I found no anchor for my thought,

Of lonely sundials in barren fields
Of spinning wheels and abysmal yields.

February 17, 2006
Categories: Poetry . . Author: Prags

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