Green Ink

At home with the spiders,
Who web between hanging spades
And clay flower pots,
A poet pencils paper
With new romantic thoughts.
She finds her beat and measure
Far from radio transmitters,
She finds her rhyme and pleasure
Knowing silence makes her better.

Originally published March 2016

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s