dark places

my pen falls
from the table
into a dark shadow

kicking
to catch it
with the side
of my shoe

spinning
it skitters
into the light

much like my thoughts
on this deathly cold day

(D. James)

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why a poet writes so many poems

to write something
of import

just once

a line
truer
than the truth

that makes
someone
think twice
pierces
their heart

it may be
in me yet
have to keep
searching
keep writing

to find that phrase
that stops the world
from spinning
if only for a moment

(D. James)