Having fallen off the edge of creativity,I find it’s closer to ground than I thought—not a place I climbed to above the crowd,but a place I reached down to beneath it—a place where life’s crumbs form trails to followand also cobwebs easily destroyedas I had planned to be. I meant to leap,but earth was close, and angel or devilinsists I try again. Creativityis close enough to touch, and my weak armreaches for it with a will of its own.I close my eyes against what happens next.Something beyond me wants more time;Why is an answer I have yet to find.
My blog poems are rough drafts.
Please respect my copyright.
If you quote, credit this page.
© 2021 Susan L. Chast