It’s time
for
a poem
that spills out
on the table
top
like jelly beans
from
a container
you open too quickly
Except
there is no table top
or
jelly beans
just this contraption
you type on
and look
at the screen
and
see no colors
or moving parts
nothing
but words
It doesn’t
matter
if a bowl
of gardenias
nearby
fills the room
with tantalizing
aroma
Or
you hear a violin
in
the
distance
from a window sill
where the curtain
waves
in the breeze
like a
handkerchief
from a loved one
as
you leave
for
so far away
It is time
for a poem
in all
its
bland and
simpering
glory
It is
time to compose
maestro!
And
so
I reach my hand out
to
give
a rose
to
the
world
Please
if you would be so kind
take
it
And we may both dance
we may
then
both dance
