I’m
staring at my notebook;
The
page is lined but blank.
I’m
like the driver with no map
Or
gas within the tank.
I’ve
got the engine started
But
I have no place to go,
So
I’m sitting here in neutral
With
my spirits sinking low.
It
doesn’t happen often
That
my mind will not engage,
Yet
my musings somehow managed
To
get words upon the page.
It’s
almost time for typing,
For
what finally seems clear
Is
that sometimes simply idling
Is enough to get in gear.
No comments:
Post a Comment