Conversation With My Muse

In honour of National Poetry Day in the UK:

Conversation With My Muse


When you come

is it to rescue me from deserts

or to remind me of the tomb?

Reassembling parts

of a life harvested through imperfect eyes

my impoverished graces

dovetail the frame of a bloomed mirror.

Inadvertent lies

are the unwanted faces

of twice-wagered dice, the taunting of bankrupt old age

at the failure to infuse my tongue

with the suitably profound.

Aspiring to more than love or rage

I wait to be freed by song

as if there are notes to slow down time,

and slowed, for retarded time to be stopped by rhyme.

Comments are closed.

Powered by

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: