When I Write

When I write

Sometimes

It feels like I'm dancing

My loquacious mind,

Whose dance floor 

Is a clearing In a forest,

Covered with leaves,

Upon which each and every leaf

Holds a word,

Or a thought,

Or an emotion.

I jump and twirl in the air,

My feet coming down

Exploding the leaves.

They flutter up

And swirl around me,

In their yellows,

browns, greens, and reds.

I dance with my fingers

Around the keyboard,

Conjuring poems

That I have collected into bundles.

And then I jump in

And dance again,

and laugh, or cry.

And sometimes,

I just flop onto the pile and say,

Awe!