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My Striking Pen

TANYA CLIFF

Is my pen led astray?
Or just having its way?
two line strikes
and
those “rich green, carpet of flowing grasslands”
become
“verdant meadows”

Ideas morph in the margins
the chrysalis cracks
under the weight of my rolling, ballpoint pen
NOW
“the welcoming pale pink petals of my wax begonias that lure hummingbirds”
flutter away as
“blushing invitations to winged friends”

Arrows zing around my page
in colorful edits
this is war
in my mind
ten words drop in a single line:
“the furry, flop-eared bunny hopped, hid eggs and in the yard and, exhausted, dropped”
simply put:
“the rabbit died”

I’m not crying
rabbits
though cute
are ever multiplying
like words
before edits
they overrun the garden-page
NOW
weeded
hunted
tended
ideas flourish
under the cut of my striking pen
this is war

~

Words and Photography ©2017 Tanya Cliff ~ to contact me

Posted in poetry & free…

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