Reflections on Writing on a Rainy Day Alone

Writing lines

small type font

fountain pen

pencil fading

into wisps of smoke

and nothing

the blank page stares

a mirror

pond forming under branches

green and dark full of sound

unseen

whispers of my heart

quietly curling in

rising incense

a still room

no beats

no music

no one to hear

scratches in a journal

the pen runs dry

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s