Fingers black with newsprint ink just as her’s
are with charcoal.

She lounges there with over-sized headphones
sketching, and I want to
know her.

I could frame it and wrap it
and let someone else peel it all away to know
what I do.

* * *

Not really a poem…a piece from an old attempt at something important, that never really got there.

Looking forward to seeing everyone at the meeting tonight – travel safe.



One thought on “1.16.2008”

  1. Interesting…I, too, have little fragments of poems/observations sticking around just like these. Sylvia Plath wrote a poem about this phenomenon called “Stillborn” – it’s a good one for any poet to read.

    I always hope these little fragments will find their way home to a poem someday.

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