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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