Dawning for a poet

Scratchy, scraping, raw
pencil on paper
causes her to stir

she turns sleepily my way
half smiles, half sneers
rolls back the other way

she thinks I am writing
a paean to some ancient love or
other stray reminisce, hopes its
not some sappy ode to her

Sometimes it is.

Other times I am writing
of birds, pine trees, lakes, youth;
life, philosophic stuff

or I am propped up on my pillow
seeking appropriate metaphors
for the sound of graphite
eloquently grazing lined
wood pulp

– Mark L. Lucker
© 2017
http://lrd.to/sxh9jntSbd

About poetluckerate

I am a poet, writer and teacher who moved from Minnesota to New Orleans in 2008 to help rebuild the worst public school system in America. It is a huge challenge to say the least. Now, after ten years, I have returned home to my native Midwest. Writing - in many different forms and ways - has saved me untold thousands in therapy bills throughout the years. Reading my writings may do either the same - or just the opposite - for you. Read at your own risk, as I do not offer writer malpractice insurance. ;-{) I hope you enjoy what you read here.
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