Maya Hanson (mye3)


A Poem...


A poem.
Unwritten on a page,
Waiting for someone to make it
Something incredible,
Something that exists.

Then the pencil drifted to the page…

A poem.
Waiting in the dress up box in the attic
For a child to find it
And read it
And dream,
Make it come alive.

Then the wind blew…

A poem.
Landing on a row of lockers
As if it had a parachute,
Waiting for one girl,
with her back to everyone else,
To find it
And read it
And not feel alone.

Then the wind blew…

A poem.
Lying on the streets of Paris
Waiting for a young couple to find it
And read it
And let it change their lives…
Their love.

Then the wind blew…

A poem.
Waiting in the wings
Of a stage performance
To greet whoever happens upon it
And grant them good luck.

Then the wind blew…

A poem.
Left in a café in London
Waiting for an impeccably dressed businesswoman
To find it
And read it
And make it the bright point in her day.

Then the wind blew…

A poem.
Landing on the lap
Of an old man, sitting by the sea
Waiting to be opened
And touched again.

Then the wind blew…

A poem.
Blown in the wind
On a journey all its own
And carried right back to where it began,
Back to the same empty piece of paper.

Then the wind blew…

Submitted: Saturday, January 19, 2013
Edited: Sunday, February 24, 2013

Form:


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