WHAT A WHIRLWIND OF A MONTH IT'S BEEN. THE PARADES FOR NatPoMo are winding down, and here we are at the end of a joyous celebration! Poems have been gathered in bouquets, and everyone became a poet for the month! Alas, here it is, Poem in My Pocket Day. I hope you all have one to tuck away, carry with you if you run into a poetry drought. I have mine, right here, just in case I have to administer a poetry transfusion.
POEM IN MY POCKET
I'll have a word,
that one there,
the one floating through the air.
Disregarding obvious rhymes,
I refuse to pander
to poetic banter.
Offering a place to land
I try to gather a word
that seems as soft as feathers.
I cup my hands and catch,
not a word
but a hummingbird.
I fit it into my pocket
feeding it a nourishing whisper
and hope it bears within,
a poem.
I let it fly away and circle me,
its wings tick-tocking
some doggerel.
It's absolute bliss,
walking through another day
as a poet,
with one new idea
that's landed in my pocket.
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