Poem 6, June 6


Life in Columbia


Early in the morning

I write words along lines

in my mind,

a young woman,

a beauty,

full of romance,

& wishes

becomes the poem.


I write the poem

as quickly as thunder rattles dishes

after lightning does its dance

down the tallest tree.

The poem ends before love began,

love being undefined,

tasting of sweet white wines.

After all, it was only a one morning