Room to Play

Room to Play

It sits on the nightstand, a
spiral-bound stack of deadwood
no larger
than a cassette tape, clad
in magenta,
offering
one hundred and sixty invitations to
commune with myself.

A black butterfly clip divides past
from present; faint blue lines
promise to
bring order out of chaos.
Paper bits,
notions
extracted from this moveable
brain, mingle with silver.

But it is too small for secrets, it
can only contain the mundane;
the lines
too orderly, too rigid. Muse
needs galactic
space,
demands borderless playgrounds
to spill the soul’s blood.

2 thoughts on “Room to Play”

  2. Kathryn

    Thank you, Twyla. Yes, I wrote this. Posts that are the work of others I enclose in a white box in the post; my own work is presented as a normal post. (Now you know the secret of my strange organizational tendencies!) 🙂

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