updraft

After midnight When the Muse dances And words pour through my fingers, I have no control; I am the instrument she plays, I am the lyre she plucks, the sand she kicks as she dances. No metre except the drumming of her heels. In a cloud, I am blind with her sand, Not knowing where I'm going. Just to trust is effort enough. Listen! Like it began, The final drumbeat. Shoes are silent. Pencil stops. She laughs, Departs.

#poem #freeverse #shape 2018-06-28