Mypoetry - Blog Posts

quillrosetellsstories

2 years ago

Snow on Poetry Lane

Down University Avenue,

Past the Cub Foods

And the Caribou coffee

Lies Poetry Lane

The words are etched

Onto immoveable concrete

A community’s love bared to the world

Yet the sky tests the citizens,

Opening a flurry of thick flakes

Fitting to the compressed letters

Slowly taking up space.

The prose stands out in white

Glittering under streetlamps

And porch lights.

Feet clad protectively shuffle along the lane

Pausing at the words

Before stepping

Unreading

Packing the snow in deeper.

Gobs of white yet fall

Burying Poetry Lane

Burying the hearts of those

Brave enough to cement the truth

Until one gloved hand

Warmly brushes aside the blanket

Shedding light on the community, and

Poetry Lane, at least for a moment.

I felt inspired one day and this is what came to mind...

Inspiration is not earned, given or granted.

Inspiration is not babbled by brooks.

It is not whispered by the wind or gifted by a falling leaf.

Inspiration is not found on a mountain top.

Nor peaceful meadows or beside the sea.

Inspiration is the light found in the darkest of darks...