Some things are never easy
Gone
I wake up with a start… my poem is gone
I grapple with under-blankets
Shake the spring bed
Sounds of strained wires
Irritate my half-slumbered mind
I search for a word
A title to begin with
I search for a rhyme
That like a drum beat
Spread its echoes in my dream
The sheets reek of broken dreams
Scattered from the pillows to my toes Read more
