I've been thinking
about the blank page
all day. It grows
more brilliant as I
focus, more and more
until it is too bright
to see. I dim it
with this ink, scribbling
like a moth at a lamp.
Together we could
fold it into origami
thought: the day's
spent hours over
to touch night's dark
corner, and back
over the other edge
to herald the dawn.
It's a thought.
A blank page is
full of
possibilities.
A great poem. Michael Dransfield said nothing was as terrifying as the blank page.
ReplyDeleteYes it is - 'scribbling like a moth at a lamp' and the origami section - wonderful.
ReplyDelete