poetry...

On this cool Summer night, 

       headlights of cars

passing slowly by

    illuminate 

         the shapes of my body...

I sit still & quiet

       burying myself in 

the poetry of 

           Miss Monroe, 

often forgetting

    to make notations & 

grammar corrections

    as was asked of me... 

 I look up, 

      out into the night

breathing in 

   the crisp evening air...

     I look down 

         at my fingernails,

        stained with acrylic paint

from my newest piece... 

  My mind fills with 

a hundred more ideas 

          for new pieces &

new series... 

   I wipe them from my mind

for the night & 

            dive back into the 

carefully composed words,

   full of raw passion

& clever insight... 

               

         revealing the extraordinary

in the ordinary... 

     she writes of my vibrant, 

singing city

       & of lovers past... 

   I look up again

            and sigh... 

              Oh to be in love!

the simple bliss,

     yet endless complexity... 

terrible & wonderful 

                at once... 

              Oh, to be in love...