Monday, November 7, 2016

Lizz Murphy - Poem 312: Dream

a pie shaped like a hand
a friend sitting by herself
the friend she is meeting
hasn’t shown
she is sad
I am happy to see her
I buy my hand-shaped pie
return to the table
She is gone

I would like to write
about the muses
Head thick with sleep
eyes dragging
words lost in the fog
feeling the long haul
no poem tonight


  1. Marvelous in any way, Lizz. How they come close to us like a cat sniffing for the seconds that we have for them. We're lucky they will sometimes return in dreams and in the other special moments that we see day to day. I like to think that they're always reminding us that they're nearby and usually they're offering help us to get to that music. :)

  2. how I often feel trying to write one each night!

  3. Thanx for all comments. Love those positive takes on the muses.


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