CITY WRITER

 

CITY WRITER

Sauntering through the crowded city streets

He soaks up every language, light and air,

Praying for all and everyone he meets.

Nothing prepares his heart to write like prayer.

He licks up the city's feeling and tone,

Like drips down a summer ice cream cone.

Still chilly in the filtered morning light

A mocha buys his seat in the coffee shop.

He scans the paper through before he writes.

He sips his coffee, tall with an extra shot.

Reading a novel, he was up too late.

Now to write himself, he must be awake.

Next he reviews what he wrote yesterday,

Assuming each character's perspective.

He's fully immersed in the interplay,

Trying out each one's smile or invective.

He's soon lost in another place and time.

Gathering ripe fruit from the muse’s vine.

At noon he savors a hot bowl of soup.

He closes his eyes to give them a rest.

He leaves his table to a larger group.

It's important not to become a pest.

In a park he finds a shady table

To weave the plot of his modern fable.

This poem was published in the book Take Me To The Garden.

https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07YSVLW24/ref=dbs_a_def_rwt_bibl_vppi_i10

Amazon Author Central page.

I am posting some of my poems beginning with a few on writing.  In between poems I intend to post segments from the introduction to my book I AM, Poetic Reflections on The Gospel of John.