Perhaps it was the way I sat there – hands alert

over laptop keys as birds welcomed in the first morning light –

that finally drove inspiration away.

 

Tired of my constant attention, I suspect she simply

needed some space.  I can almost see her, rounding the corner

on a journey to someplace a bit more exotic.

 

Perhaps she’s strolling the Champs Elysees

wearing a jaunty beret and sipping espresso

at sidewalk cafes in the noonday haze, a cigarette

 

teetering wryly between her finger and thumb

as she lazily plumbs the mysteries of Verlaine

and the secrets behind that reticent smile.

 

Or perhaps she departed for wilder places

where the air is heavy with the scent of gardenia

and the echoes of capuchins bounce overhead

 

as she hacks with machete through dense jungle floor

to carve out a path that will help her descend

to the temple of wisdom and transcendent light.

 

But as for me, I’ll stay right here – fingers poised and hands alert –

and watch the steam rise off my coffee as the mama robin

searches the yard for a buried worm to feed to her young.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s