Ars Poetica

Because there are too many journeys I
can’t make. Because my memories are fleeing
me so I make things up. Because in seeing

this little of the world my inner eye
invents the rest. Because the flowers sigh
and winds are blooming in the spring. Because

this music on the page is how I force
my mind to sing some untold lullaby –
and all I do is steer the raging course

while trying not to drown. My pen is hoarse,
if not completely dumb. I know this way
lies madness. Say yes. Say yes. I’ve said yes

again and again, if only to express
this silence. Watch me write the world away.


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