Poem: On Writing Poetry in the Morning

On Writing Poetry in the Morning

I read some poems every day

Hoping for inspiration on what to say,

But sometimes the words just don’t come;

Nothing I say makes sense to anyone.

Emotions may have boiled in the evening

Yet I had no time to write anything.

I read a book before going to bed

To help erase all thoughts within my head.

So here I am in the arms of Aurora

Seeking words hidden beneath my fedora.

But they were stolen by Mr. Sandman

And I’m left with only coffee in hand.

May 2023

About This Poem:

I write poetry every morning when I journal, but sometimes it's just hard. I often rely on what I have read in the morning, or photos on my phone. But sometimes those are little to no help. This poem was written at one of those times. The photograph is from an afternoon walk just west of Potlatch, so you can see bits of town, the trees, and Gold Hill in the background with the sun tinting the clouds. If you don't live here you might think it is a morning shot...