Heather McMordie oldprintgallery.wordpress.com
I had a handful of words
rolling around in my palm
staring them down as though
to figure where they came from
how it was they might fit together
arranging them like puzzle`pieces
to reveal some kind of a picture
since every picture is worth
at least a handful of words
or some say a thousand
But suddenly the horse
I was riding on stumbled
It went down and I went up
and with a blip my words went
scattering like a spent`dandelion
on the breeze I had not realized
was travelling along beside me
as I rode from here to there
the whither of which I can
not now even remember
“The goal of writing is to keep a beleaguered line
of understanding which has movement
from breaking down and becoming a hole
into which we sink decoratively to rest.” ~ William Carlos Williams
Poet's Corner 