they were sunk swords
on the enemy beach head!
they were tracer rounds arcing
to the covenant!
they were two poems!
they appeared to me perfect in the heavy dark of night
i'll remember them i thought but i didnt
and
i
thought
not
to
waste
them out
in a night light scrabble for paper
and tho today i am but a man shaped gap in the air
in
the
night
it
was
right
and
all written good and clean
in my mind
and I thought I was the only one who wrote perfect poems as I'm drifting off to sleep,reciting them over and over in my head in order to remember them (because I'm too tired to go searching for pen & paper) only to have them disappear from my memory by morning.
ReplyDeleteIf only I had a quid for every poem I'd lost that way, and a quid for every time I say to myself 'I must keep a pen and paper next to the bed'
Love this piece - I've been trying to write it myself :-)
oh those moments. perfect moments bear witness only by the self.
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