The Writer

Though not a Christmas poem, merry Christmas all the same. May God keep you safe


The Writer

The painter’s is a simple task:
to reproduce the skin,
and worry not upon the soul
that lies contained therein.

But for the man who paints with words,
he must, by surgeon’s skill,
bare organs immaterial
that, hidden, drive the will.

He separates the true heart
from the fleshy one inside,
and pulls a god-like giant from
the painter’s pale guide.

And then, preliminaries past,
his labors true begin:
to comprehend the man thus found
in paper and a pen.