Writing

Writing by Edmund Siejka At 2 am Writing is not for the meek The mind is dull Ideas are stale The telephone is unplugged Everyone in the house is asleep Not a car on the street You have what you wanted Don’t you? Uninterrupted quiet A peaceful nook For pen and paper. So what holds you back? Distracted You turn Listening to something outside Rummaging through the garbage. Turning back To the blank screen You try to focus Characters hide Tired You ask yourself What was it said about imagery? Lines lurk in the shadows The word dialogue sounds French Your hands are weighed down Fingers are heavy It is then You realize that keypads Do not move by themselves. Maybe, just maybe, an idea Will step out of the darkness In the night, trees move ever so slightly Leaves rustle in the breeze Tonight God Has not smiled on you. Inspiration is such a fleeting word.