A Year of Poems – Day 14

I wish words always came easy,
that the pen flowed over every shape
as your eyes do now,
riding the rising and falling line of my thought.

It’s hard work climbing mountains.
You reach dead ends,
trip over loose rocks,
more often than not your palms burn in the dry air,
and when you reach the top
you just want to go to sleep.

The slideshow lasts ten minutes.

Writing is like that.

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One thought on “A Year of Poems – Day 14

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