
he is a poet
and he walks outside today
and he’s pottering
as usual while he is
pondering a new poem
he is fiddling
around the garden, picking
bits and pieces, here
and there, as he drops broken
pots into the rubbish bin
an interesting thought
appears like a dart, as he
rushes inside, grabs
a pen and a notebook as
he scribbles the first stanza
~~~