No. 2



~~~

It is the permanence of ink

The stain upon parchment

Iron gull faded to brown

Good witness to every writer’s dreams

~~~

Our treasured metaphor

Images of hand-written beauty

The calligraphy of emotions

Our scriptured script of life

~~~

The pen the mighty source

Of wisdom wrapped in words

And our lives are drawn in detail

With the perfect cursive flair

~~~

But our spirit animal it is not

We are but a penciled scrawl

Life constant in its sharpening

Renewing the point of our days

~~~

A hasty blocked print

Dusted in the crumbs of erasure

Mistakes obvious and expected

Always a chance to improve

~~~

It is only in our minds

In our far-flung hopes and dreams

That our words are more

Than the graphite left behind

~~~



Comments
15 Responses to “No. 2”
  1. beth says:

    this is wonderful, brad. as you know, I’m a huge fan of the tools we use for writing and your poem connects them to our lives so well.

  2. sudrakarma says:

    Now our thoughts become ephemera; a series of ones and zeros – not even “real” ones and zeros but the “GUI” representations of countless “ons” and “offs” – stored at somebody else’s expense. Ha ha ; )

    Good morning, Brad.

  3. K.L. Hale says:

    Always sharpening, always improving, we are more than the graphite left behind…beautiful, Brad. Thank you! 🥰🤗

  4. Brad, no doubt in my mind that we are nothing left behind, we are always moving forward, far more than a mere thing like graphite, ink, stone…

  5. kristianw84 says:

    This is so beautiful, Brad! I love the metaphors. Well done, as always.

  6. jonicaggiano says:

    Lovely piece Brad. I think my work will be read when I am gone by someone. It might just be my daughter and grandchildren. My spirit will live for an eternity though. Sending big hugs 🤗 Jonikins

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