* * * * *
Scribe,
A Poem Of Communication
We all write for somebody
And
The journal of my words was
Perfect,
Ready for all to read-
Until the rain
Fell
On the ink
Of my pen
Marking the page in
Random splatters and
Making patterns
From the shape of the letters.
New words emerged
Like
Run-on sentences
With new meaning
Whose lines
Lead
To the bottom of the page.
I have become
The ghostwriter
For the sky.
(C) A.E. Dozat 5/14/15
