Pen poised over paper
ready to begin
A long pause ensues
waiting for the mysterious spark
Mind flits
from notion to notion
Nothing appears
just the dust of smoke
Some part of me
waits and hopes
As though the pen
is a hunting spear
More waiting
more emptiness
Frustration
pays a visit
Still more waiting
more dusty smoke
Judgement now arrives
and starts a conversation
I listen for a while
at first annoyed… then not
Emptiness wins
I'll write about that
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