Written Days
I have had days
When I could not write anything worth the graphite used to tie it down onto the paper.
I have had those many thoughts that run free beyond my pencil tip
That I chase along the page even after it's been much too long since I first thought them
To remember just how brilliantly I'd worked them in my mind.
I have had mornings
When I've woken from a dream with a sonnet stuck behind my eyelids
Or have let a haiku slip into my cheerios
With nothing but a napkin nearby
To wipe up the spilled milk.
I have had afternoons
Where I've walked out onto my lawn with bare feet,
Basking in the warmth of the sun
And lain down on the grass
Letting myself drop to let all of my thoughts roll off the top of my head
And down into the dirt around me
To grow into a tree with shade made for summer napping.
I have had evenings
Sitting outside on the porch waiting for dinner to cook itself
Spending the last few minutes of daylight
Watching my words dart back and forth and fly away with the barn swallows
Who swoop in figure eights to catch mosquitoes, in the dark evening sky full of purple clouds.
And I have had nights
Where I've sat up in the shadows, living only by the glow of my computer screen
With a red fleece blanket wound tightly around me
Waiting for my mind to let loose the little wisdom I possess
Searching eternally for those thoughts that touched my mind seemingly just moments earlier
During the busy bustle of my day
Before sleep finally overwhelms me
And I am left to dream again of the words I will never write.