I pick up my pen
to sift through inspirations
recording what comes up.
Lines take shape, there’s a flow.
Only, I hesitate at something
that’s keeping things out of sync.
You agree with me some part isn’t right.
But, you don’t offer the words
to make it hum for me.
I know you’re sulking
punishing me because
I put you off when you
were ready to talk.
I’m older now than when
we first met,
so it’s not so easy to rise
in the wee hours
to record the words you offer
because that’s when you’re ready to speak.
These days I need my rest more;
you should be more understanding.
It’s okay. I’ll just keep writing until you
can’t stand it anymore
and have to tell me what you think.
I know you won’t be able
to hold out forever.
We’re a team and you won’t abide
being left out of things.
Just the same, next time you want to talk
at four o’clock in the morning
I promise to wake up for it.
© 2010 Shari Lynne Smothers
This poem is for the napowrimo prompt #5, make your poetry personal. Visit the post to see the details of this prompt.