and soon they all returned with
frowns, and said
they were rejected. He was sad
because
they were his friends, these modest
groups
of simple words, and so he set them
in the light
and let them glow again the way
they did
when they had first appeared inside
his mind
like lilting dancers or singers
singing songs
he’d never heard. They seemed to
smile again,
these small unwanted poems, and so
he smiled,
and then the world spun again and sent
him several new and tuneful
twirling poems.
No comments:
Post a Comment