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Poetry, verses, song…
Haunt my vision like longing,
Intense, painful, obsessive.
The image of a verse,
[persistent]
Pirouettes, teases, pries…

I must write of this silhouette,
Wrapped in worn out wool,
White and frayed.
[An old woman?] hiding her face,
Her face and the heavy weight
Weight of history - strapped to her frail heart,
Pain pinned to her chest.
She breathes easier now,
Now that I have her sorrow
Transmuted and transmitted,
In undulating rhyme.

Poetry, verses, song…
Haunt my vision thus, like longing,
Until I have it down,
Painted on paper;
Carved on canvas;
Worded on wood…
In the settling flash of sunset,
Noir silence of night,
Even the hullabaloo of noon,
I must have –
The poem penned.

May 10, 2010.