poem 290 of a poem a say for 2012

finding a tucked away poem, is like finding a friend who knows what your other worlds look like

there was a poem

that I had

left in a pocket

from a reading

when I used to go

to all the open mics

more often than I do now

instead I just write

in solitude and

stream my poems

like it was a well paying job

it isn’t

but it sure makes me

smile in the dark

I feel each word become

a raw and ready

sky crawling along

with red eyes

ghosting this world

like this found poem does

when its thoughts

are harvested

and hung with twine

drying each fine scent

that is leaning back

into what words find

when silence eats

between

a forgotten

then remembered

friend

EJR ©