Last night I couldn’t fall asleep. I lay listening to the soft tick-tock of an old clock on top of the blanket chest. And I wrote my first poem since my college days. One of my majors was English with a Creative Writing emphasis. I always struggled with poetry – prose was more my thing.
This poem just showed up in my head. Unannounced, unplanned, unedited. It was just there and I kind of like it.
The tick-tock of the clock
is the sound of old.
New time is silent,
Yet holds all the noise
of the world.
Why a poem now? I don’t know. Maybe it’s best to not question creative gifts.
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