(written December 22, 2008)
I walk in from the cold
And heat envelops me
An instant sweeping change
I've had a few changes like that--
Irreversible.
Incomplete transitions,
Like a sentence without a verb.
You must supply the meat.
When you feel insubstantial
It's hard to bring anything to the table,
To be of use, of worth.
You must have that verb.
Without it--
You might get crossed out
By some editor's mark.
A big, red No.
But poetry--
You don't need complete sentences
Maybe that's why I'm at home here,
Sitting against this heater, writing again.
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