on writing a poem

consider what you’ve  been thinking,

 wheel it around;

 sit and think about it more

and then a bit  more, until  it’s okay.

so then you write some parts,

and then add a little more.

do it all in a day

or kick it around for a month, either way,

then it all comes out

like the washing machine when it stops.

open the door and  sort it,

folding and stacking pieces together,

and that’s  why you write a poem.

why?  that’s right, of course.

to put the pieces together

and if you do it right there’s nothing left over,

mostly nothing.  the truth is you’ve got the

rest of you life left over, so it may, more than

likely,  occur to you to do it again.   another day.

don’t ask when,  and if it rhymes, that’s ok.

remember, you need some luck

and if it quacks

you’ve made a duck.

some say – well, Emily Dickenson alluded that way.