Birth of a Poem

Somewhere just above my belly

not quite to my heart

the simmering churning sparking

begins yet again

words rise to the surface

they will be noticed

pebbles in a shoe

peas buried twelve mattresses deep

like a glow of orange burning the horizon

fire sparked at the edge of the sky

uncontrolled, it engulfs the heavens

just a few little words have the power

to multiply

they build heat, simmer gaining fury

until the pot boils over

words spilling down the sides

pouring forth

quenching the flame

letting me rest






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