by Glen Martin Fitch
Perhaps you don't want me
to know you're done.
Your thought's complete.
Perhaps you don't want me to note
an insert,
clause, or
series has begun, or
when a thing's possessed, or
strange,
foresee omissions,
"quotes", or
something that's left out
--as in an after-thought,
some (F.Y.I.) or
something emphasized.
We read without a hint.
I fear we often go awry.
A play is written
for the eye and ear.
When reading one
you search the text for clues.
Once poems were heard and seen,
passed year to year.
Please make me write your poem.
Please be my muse.
Give me the signal
when to pause or
wait and breathe and think.
Please, poet, punctuate.
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ABOUT THE POET ~
Glen Fitch is a 16th Century poet lost in the 21st Century. Born near Niagara Falls, educated in the Catskills, thirty years on the Monterey Bay he now lives in Palm Springs. Retail not academics has paid the bills. Someday he will finish Spenser's "The Fairie Queene."
Last updated August 23, 2011