Muse’s Magic
across a continent
words reach me
and I take the plunge:
the light scratching sound of brush on wood
the delicate stroke of palette knife
to immortalize your gorgeous slinky legs
a phonograph
a pair of bongos
books on a dresser
in an undisclosed location with a view of the old gray square
not having met
(and god knows when)
free verse and blues transcend
through your poem (and other words) I am touched
my muse and collaborator
and friend.
© 1-30-2009, fprm
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