Friday, February 6

When I was sleeping, something was growing
pushing this way and that
somersaulting in my abdomen

a poem was growing
nascent lines and nascent phrases
forming, molding, building
out of my unconscious self

Words conceived from memories
from distant places traveled
from my homeland  of Chicago
from my residency in Florida

I awaken
the poem is still there
it moves, it shakes
I need it to be born

The time arrives,
and as an act of magic,
words come spilling
I write this poem

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