I remember that for years,
in school, at work in meetings,
I used to doodle;
sometimes a little,
sometimes a lot --
it helped me concentrate,
always has --
and now I find, not
doodle-filled pages,
but poems,
with lines from the conversations
around me,
phrases sucked out of context,
and used to make a point,
crystallize an emotion,
describe a scene,
paint a portrait,
express an impression
(never impress an expression,
or it will come back to
haunt you or hunt you),
give answers, or
even just ask questions.

My doodles, come poems,
have expanded
over time
to fill spaces
that I never knew were there.

March 12, 2009.

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

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