You Sit to Write
| filed under: Poem, Love Poem, Poetry, Kathryn Medland
This is my favorite ode to Kathryn Medland. She is an inspired poet and I want to make that clear. And so, in admiration of her art, I wrote about her. There might have been a crush involved.
You simmer before the page,
Ruminate about a tree,
In November, on a cold bench,
And ratchet a pen
Between your fingers.
Words crunch through
The gravel at your feet and dapple
Upon the page in cursive,
Evoking the spires of trees.
At your desk, pressed against
A clammy pane of glass, a mirror,
You strain to perceive differently
But words retreat; the page is still
Clean in your room at midnight;
But you need to write down
Your crashing thoughts,
And then comes day
And the Muse neither visits your pen
Nor your paper.
©1994 chris abraham