Finding Poetry

by Liz Trew

Poetry lives alone
sleeps in forest and on the factory floor
wakes in the company of others
hangs out with the homeless
drinks with frightened deer
goes barefoot across the injured field
sits beside the dying.

Poetry – sensual, lovesick
playful – lays out the pools
of her river
rinses and wrings out dark water
to soothe shattered rockfalls
and grind stone into glitters of sand.

I immerse my knotted self
in her spirit pool,
untangle my thoughts.
If I listen for her wild song
she sends me notes
so I can sing.

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