The Disguises We Choose
My #30 for National Poetry Month
pencils leave dusty trails
graphite, upon altars
where words are sacrificed daily
in the name of love, or lust,
finding some transparency
in their speedy dispatch.
a slit here,
a lift there.
i watch their trail
and wonder who i am really.
a poet is only an event planner
copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2015
ps--And so I bring this month to a close. Thank you so much for taking this journey with me. I was not sure that I could do it this time, but thanks to you, I have. I will rest a bit and start reading your work now--