Night Poems

Night Poems

 

Some nights I feel as if

I could lay my head down

and let the poem go,

just this once.

But I don’t.

 

Poems want desperately to be held,

nurtured with dusky whispers

and coaxed into the light.

 

They may feign aloofness

but, really,

poems are sluts for attention.

 

Let a poem know you are ready

(but not too eager)

and it will practically pounce

on your attention,

wrestle it to the page

and bat your words around

until they fall in satisfactory order.

 

It is not your job to question

or to claim ownership;

just to play,

and give the poem

all the credit for being.