I am a poet circumscribed by time.
So I write from that greater scarcity.
Morning pleas are to the amusing God:
‘Help me draw lines that make sense, an
aligned simplicity seeking not to impress
or instruct but rather to move.
Over and out.’
Sometimes God answers.
Sometimes God is quiet.
Either way my verses are swept from
the scattered temptations of this life.
From time to time the dawn reveals
they were good for something.

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1 Comment

  1. Diana Trautwein on August 23, 2013 at 4:24 am

    Uh. . . that would be a HUGE yes, they were – and are. Thank you for this one and for every other word you write. And though I do not know you IRL, I don’t hesitate to add, thank you for living what you write. I don’t think these words would be possible without that truth.

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