A Poet’s Soul

Have you ever tried to write a poem,

in sprite, tap dance prose-

light water music flowing to a thought’s ear,

as a gentle wave washes over,

warm and familiar,

uncovering the heartfelt, underbelly of your soul?

Try it and let me know,

what you gleam in sublime irony,

of life so far lived,

in the dark green forests,

rooted in wood ferns,

needle pine paths fading to underbrush shadows.

As for me, I am going to write a poem,

with the pungent smell of clean, grass clippings,

severed and dying in the hot sun,

and something about the honey bee circling my soft drink,

landing on the patio table inching closer, curious with fear and hunger.

- Mark Trubisky