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How Poetry Comes To Me

It comes blundering over the
Boulders at night, it stays
Frightened outside the
Range of my campfire
I go to meet it at the
Edge of the light
Tuesday, April 14, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: poetry
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COMMENTS
Tim Buchanan 04 February 2019
This poem blunders into my presense continually. It so well captures the creative process that is required of the artist to seek out the muse at the edge of light - just there, beyond - in the wake of attention.
0 0 Reply
Fabrizio Frosini 27 July 2015
I go to meet it at the Edge of the light really a bright imagery.. Enjoyed
5 0 Reply

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