My pencil taps against the table

straining for some words to put on paper

to say something,


worth someone’s time to read.

I stare out the window at crusted snow

bare branches and bird flitting to the feeder

and wonder

how many other writers

sit at a table with me, pencils tapping,

seeking words in the snow, the trees and the fleeing birds.


About grannysu

storyteller, writer, poet, gardener, countrywoman
This entry was posted in A River of Stones, aros, Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s