The Life of a Writer by Jalynn Harris
the life of a writer is desire  
              i hammer into the page  
                          i make up my mind: the streetlight  
is not the moon, but anything can be 
              made beautiful under the ease  
                          of my hammer  
i wish you could see that i write in blue ink 
              the color of oceans & early mornings  
                          & everything is clear like  
tears rushing towards the chin  
              of my desire. i pen what i’m meant 
                          to pen. how deep in love i am  
& how silly of me to spend all morning dreaming  
              about love & not expect my  
                          desire to set me free  
the knives of my fingers tap 
              out the notion that if i turn the key  
                          it will unlock. 
admittedly, i am foolish  
              about love—a simple yes excites me— 
                        ‘cause i know that all that i require will be met 
like water meets the tongue. it’s scary 
            desire, a small fan at my window in the summer,  
                        a booklight lighting the pages of my life

Happy Sunday.

Arild Plau (1920-2005) – Concerto for Tuba and Strings