Trying to Write – by TIM TIPTON

Trying to Write

 

I reached deep into a empty well

 with questions, not words

 

Questions such as

 will I ever write again?

 

My body cries to lie down

 but my heart refused to obey

 

I struggled to form

 anything from the pen

 

The house was quiet like the backyard

 so quiet you don’t even know you’re alive

 

Moon shined hot florescent white

 on a humid summer night

 

I sat for hours trying to write

 my hand resigned the pen and turned

 out the light

 

Nobody could blame me if I

crawled in bed, could they?

 

There was nothing new inside me

 the well was bone dry

 

I studied the paper gleaming from the

 moonlight where I saw it quivering

 when my breath touched it

 

Before long, before I knew it,

 morning came  

 

The sun was ripe for the eye

 The well was full and plentiful

 Morning nourished me, everything was

 fulfilling.

 

I took all the time I wanted as

 pen came together with paper and

 words flowed from the ink, this  

 pleased me greatly.

***

me-reading

Tim Tipton was first seduced by the craft of poetry when he read the “Panther” by Rainer Marie Rilke. Tim is a graduate of California State University of Northridge where he received a Bachelor of Science in Sociology. He also received a degree in Substance Abuse counseling.

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