room for expression – Jan Rebgetz

 

in this room

I first put pen to paper

 

my first poem

was about a tree

a tree old gnarled shady

severed into firewood

my soul cried

 

in this room

I hid that poem

 

over the next year

I read it many times

somewhat furtively

replacing it gently

concealing it because...

 

it wasn't good enough

though secretly I knew it was

 

one day I let it free --

it gave me life and breath

 

and now this room

has no bounds

 

where once were walls

there are tall forests blue skies

      and sometimes rain

the sea laps gently at my feet

      on white sand of a deserted beach

kangaroos and wallabies stare

 

in this room

I sit and write

while magpies

warble cheerfully over my shoulder

 

Copyright Jan Rebgetz

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