A Writer's Dilemma... The Limitations of a Craft.
Out On A Limb @ "No Name Key" A Place For Thought...
In Writing He Must
A Conundrum...
Scrutinize the poet, struggling to describe
the ruckus and squabbling of starlings en masse
their blotting out the panorama of blue skies and golden,
like remarkable clouds wavering on command.
Oh, but for words and phrases ever and over again.
The monotony of it- all has been said, poet reasons.
He was merely limiting himself to fragments.
Fragments from a moment in time- the action, scene, or feeling.
Words, could cover this planet black
and never describe adequately,
a Sunrise, or its Setting.
How could one relay the Exuberance of Winning
the Death of Loss, Flavor of Love,
or the Bitterness of Hatred.
And so he concedes- Words are so very limiting indeed;
but piteously, they were all he had.
So be it...
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©greg g zaino 3/19/17
