Where are the words?
When waiting for them
to arrive
I stand beside
empty tracks
awake in the still
darkness
day doesn’t break
I can’t remember
holding a just arrived
letter in hand
ballpoint penned words
vague memories
night sky stars
silent pin points
evening primroses
waiting for dawn
a black cat
awaits its next
meal
a pencil in hand
and a rover on Mars
finds not one
cigarette butt
left by a wayward
poet.
