Writer's Block Poem by Barry Middleton

what does one do with writer's block
we must write what we know
but I have only morbid thoughts
I cannot tend to those desiring flowers

this is the dry and lifeless summer
living things seek shade and wait for rain
the poet feels the breath of death lurking
and nothing seems to lift his fatal mood

his notebook then must take a darker tone
the ominous foreboding of the final flourish
the fleuron below his signature
is his terminal gesture to the spring

poetry is only written for tomorrow
although for you death is a shimmering mirage
when it finally calls to you
then you may understand