The Poet

Free verse on being and doing

Glares in the evening sky. I took the picture.

I sit
and wait
to be inspired.

I see
all the time:

things,
people,
nature,
me

to continuously grab
the very essence,
transforming it
into words.

I offer you
my secret diary pages,
dots and pots of ink
and glares of life.

I know the art
of denuding souls
as to be read
without shame,
without reserve.

With a white and delicate heart,
please,
approach
to the wonder
of this
exposed
treasure.