A Dangerous Imagination
And his throat ached to cry aloud
guttural sounds ....that had been held back
echoing words ...words only splattered
across the pages once blank
For Poets are only human
and in their humanity
must be everyman...
and everywoman
who has known the heartache
of sorrow and despair..
The tenderness of the breeze
the cry of the sparrow
the melody of the Snaking rivers
I have watched a sunset
melt into the approaching darkness
holding on to...clinging to..any soul
who fears the coming night
for the loneliness that will grasp
their imagination... is their own