Poet

by dantewilde

Thoughts drop against the screen

Evanesce

Lighted keyboards gleam

Evanesce in the dying day

Minutes fall and fade away

Thoughts drop void of essence

A hand glides in a leap of faith

A pen follows falling in its place

The eighth line in a row of vowels

Day succumbs and darkness prowls

The poet sits upon his chair

The writer laments the night of owls

For thoughts drop

Like tears they fall

Blood-like they drip against the screen wall

Paper inkโ€™d it leers and glares.

Evanesce like stolen tears

Again he lifts his pen to write

Again he taps his keys tonight

Again the thoughts they donโ€™t form at all

Again he hits the writers wall

Night black

As black as pitch

The ink well swirls

The quill tip dips

The poet writes another line

The eighth vowel he has in mind

Night succumbs

Into day he comes

The poem lays against his desk

Again he lifts his pen tonight

A hand glides in a leap of faith

Minutes fall and fade away

In other place

There has been this day.

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