Pantoum

Perfection comes in tiny drops
dispensed by careful, measured gods.
First genius burns and then it stops.
Where once you flew, you only plod.

Dispensed by stingy, careful gods,
the writer hoards those unique thoughts
and dares to fly instead of plod
until the words are felled by drought.

The writer hoarding unique thoughts
when those are gone cannot abstain
and though the words are felled by drought,
attempts to fit them to the page.

When thoughts are gone, oh please abstain;
genius will burn though now it's stopped.
Just put aside the empty page.
Perfection comes in tiny drops.

9/22/11 dawn


dedicated to Professor Gary Mitchner, who unlocked the poetry for me.