CREATION

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By Tom H. Brooks 3

I have sat there

staring

before a blank piece of paper,

pure

white

empty

like a universe

with nothing in it

waiting to be created.

Try to force inspiration

and nothing happens…

but no…wait…

then

at the unlikeliest of moments,

a cockroach crawls

across cracked plaster walls

the moon shines

opaque

through dirty palms

a bottle breaks

distant voices

music

a dog howling

a coyote even?

and then

and then

the words

flow

like a silver river

through misty blue mountains…

 

THB3

 

 

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