Now poem

Cast your
Eyes on words
Written far away
Yet read close

Are you filled with wonder?
Does that question have a sound?
Are you perhaps my neighbor after all?

Graffiti has such a strange shape
When you see it from the train
Pop-up ads
Block paths to ideas

Before he could read
Sam marveled at the power of words,
the imagination hovered busy
building stories

Yet once defined, he was a little
Disappointed by the fixedness of words

Anna at the gym
prefers to watch the TV screen on the
treadmill, without the sound

And Peter painted on top
of women’s magazines
and dined
on oysters and water

Tabula rasa

So I start. The first words appear as I type. No photo, no story as yet. Just words forming on the page.