My Book Poem by Tom Courtney

I’m writing again
though I’ve nary been able
But I’m pecking away
and hunched o'er the table

Got plans to submit
There are words for these for feelings
What essence? What truth?
The thought sends me reeling

I’m carving out passages
Searching for words
Keeping it simple
Write in halves - no in thirds

I’m writing again
Seems it's never complete
What I 'm trying to say
What it is got me beat

But I look to the words
I’ve come to the pen
To search for the sense of it
Starting again

There's a kernel of truth
Hidden deep somewhere here
The plot is disjointed
The meaning unclear

But like cake in the oven
Each dog has his day
My book has it's place
(It's not finished today)