Gary Imperial
STREWN ABOUT
Strewn about the wondrous white
by a God-like fickle muse
some thunder in while others are light rain
The Lilac mist is heady
pause take in the sweetened air
let fragrance finger in the words to use
Middle, index and my thumb
they are empty as I wait
come fill them with your stylus form for me
Through the gray I see your form
as a charcoal sketch on pad
embrace me now so we may be complete
Whets my appetite for words
each minute grows my hunger
sublime the thought it will be fed by you
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