Not Today

by allisonkujiraoka

Every day

I focus my eyes

and incline my ears

and grab onto images and idioms

floating by.

Could that be a poem?

I think.

And, inevitably, there’s a word

that sticks and grows into lines.

But today, nothing did.

 

Every day I search for a poem;

I listen for a poem.

And every day they fly to me.

But today, nothing did.

 

My ears pull a phrase

out of the atmosphere

My mind fixates

              shapes

              clamps down on it

and moulds it into verse.

Just not today.

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