I have not written for a while because life has gotten in the way. Which should be the very thing to write about, yet the thoughts of writing are like mud in my mind, created by the spring rains and the lingering yawns of winter.
I have sat down to this computer several times in the last week to try and write something, but nothing comes. Which, strangely, reminded me of a poem I wrote about a year ago. A great little piece about nothing.
A cursor blinks knowingly
His own demented little secret
of a story hiding in that vertical
Fingers flexed, on the proper keys
ASDF and such
Mrs. Terry would be proud
I scream at my muse – I think there is one left
Just give me one word, a start, I beg, one Word
Not that one
I’ve got to start something,
ignite the fire…