beside you I watch you think
you write
as though your first love
was a typewriter
with the right hand slamming
an emphatic end
to each completed sentence.
I cannot lose the rhythm
the build till triumph
and then silence again.
This is the long hour and how it turns
and still the words come and continue
growing to crescendo across the page.
I cannot miss this ending
with the tangled thought laid smooth
across the screen
and a final resounding crash of keys.
How the pages fly before you
an inky wind rife with weight
and they shall sing whether
they choose to or not.
The keys at last are silent
but there is another page waiting
and another tomorrow.
1 comment:
This one made me think of CAKE a lot. "Adjectives on the type writer, he moves his words like a prize fighter..." The way you describe the writing like it's the music of an orchestra makes this one like a song of its own too. I'm guessing this one was based on experience?
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