giving birth



release my mind
from this playground

where thoughts climb the monkeybars of imagination,
and words dance in the sand,
while metaphors swing on swings and catapult themselves
into the sky

release my mind
from the letters gnawing at my skull
and punctuation marks somersaulting down
the hallowed hallway of
emotion
while
words jump up from my mind and
land feetfirst onto a blank sheet of paper,
where they will grow and mold themselves
into
a new life called
.poetry.



© 1999 by Erin D. Conroy.
A version of this poem appeared in Prism Galliard, Issue #8.

<<
notes