She speaks uninterrupted, barely breathing
or seeing, wound up, running on
pacing words and thoughts.
Letting go of redirection,
(I used to try to stop her and she ran
me over and over, run on sentences
shouting my words out of the way)
I know her lonely story,
the crying plot, cold without flowers.
She says she is grateful;
I am the only person
in the entire world who
listens. She doesn't know,
I'm also drawing her flowers.
Welcome to Four Lines! I have a goal I would like to write at least four lines of poetry or a haiku every day for the rest of my life. I'm excited about this challenge! Also, along with my daily poem, I will be reading at least four lines of another author's poetry. I'll try to include that here also. So I'm thinking - how difficult can it be to read and then write one poem a day? We will see! - Claudia
All poems on this blog, unless noted, are written by Claudia Callaghan.
© 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016 Claudia Callaghan
Used only with permission. Please feel free to join Four Lines and request permission.