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July 04, 2022

Write

By Sand Pilarski

Write

The sun slides off the edge
black windows, white walls
black laptop, white document
emptier than autumn overhead

What whispers in the dark?
stars in the night, white on black
words tried on like new shoes
black on white, new constellations
reversed from nature
a universe in the making

A phrase is born
a sentence, a scene
let it go where it wills, follow it
into madness or into comfort

What will the words say?
maybe you know, maybe you don't
sentences that reveal your soul
heart noise you've hidden from the world
born from your mind
orphans, or favored children

The sun is dragged out of bed
looks at what words have been written
Do I erase them or save them
am I creator, destroyer?

Sun and Stars smile alike on them all
there are no critics in the Sky

Article © Sand Pilarski. All rights reserved.
Published on 2011-10-24
3 Reader Comments
'Fronds
10/24/2011
07:19:53 PM
I really needed that poem right now. Thank you.
Sand
10/24/2011
09:53:25 PM
You are most welcome. Thank you for commenting.
Barry Kirwan
10/26/2011
02:22:21 PM
Fab, Sand! Reminds me of when I write with insomnia...
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