Attempting a poem a week. Maybe some other musings. Always a work in progress. Satisfaction not guaranteed.

The Muse

I said goodbye to the muse
in a parking garage 
on a chilly Thursday night

the pain too raw for words

there are other muses yes?

one of them lives in my house
sleeps in my bed 
makes my morning coffee 

why the tears?

why the silence?

If I had answers I’d have words

I’m out of words 

except the texts I’ll never send

and the prayer 
that that this absence
is only temporary 

Moment

What Gets Lost