Poets, writers in general harvest from a similar world of words
Making their own connections while meandering pathways between meadows
Drifting off into dreamland always with Spectre for company
Many consider the writer a loner
Working away in silence, laying down then bidding farewell to an idea.
He may seem distant yet is far removed from being a loner
A name on a page, laid bare warts and all.
What makes a poem work, this question has been posed many times
The fact that it had to be written perhaps?
Rejection can drive your success.
He strapped himself into the cockpit eager to face the day
Two stout friends from Columbia and Havana assist in what has to be said
Collaborators not dictators
Unknown to themselves offering the writer many lifelines
At seventy with snow on top and worn by weather
Making his own connection, meandering along pathways between meadows.
(c) Chris Black. July 2018
~The Poet’s Poet~