A Poet's Game
by Becky Brown


Copyright © 2001 by Margaret Rebekah Brown Martz. All rights reserved. Reproduction without permission is forbidden.

A fledgling page
For the quiddity
Of my arcane self.
I have chosen yellow paper
Orange pen.
(No pencil smudges.)
My covert life
Shall not be bared
In grainy blur
Of carbon.
It shall, of course,
Be lambent
You will be dazzled
By the acumen
And savoir-faire
This pundit
Has acquired.
At least
That is my hope
When I come to my desk
Before the busy
Chores of the day
Disperse the clarity
Which lingers
From the abyss of sleep
From half-world
Of waking time.
Once that
Is ravelled
I might as well sit down
To tea and crumpets.