Sunday, June 19, 2005

The Writer's Cigarette

One lonely cigarette burns in your window now,
shutting me out completely.

A brief chapter, begun in offhand action, ended with a cautious word.
No book to follow.

I wanted to ask: Is there anything you need from me, or see in me, or
was I just another human intrusion on your soul --

I sought a friend; you sought a character, and characters are not allowed
to touch real life.

A figment of your emotion's imagination, created in a puff of smoke, disappearing in ash.

And so I pass by your window, wondering if I'll ever recognize myself when I'm published.

-- TLPatten, 1991

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

<< Home