the rain slowly pelts the car windows,
as I sit here,
wondering whether
poems should evoke,
or emote,
or perhaps both:

should I try to make words
dance and then
sound like rainbows of rhapsodies
that carry you aloft,

or should I tell simply
of my sorrow,
of the ways that I weep
when I teeter on the edge of sleep,

when you float away?

maybe I just answered
my own question.

March 19, 2009.

Copyright © 2009, Ricky A. Pursley. All rights reserved.

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