light rain
on a pre-dawn dog walk
barking at snowmen
© Rachel Green December 2024
Why does a mind go blank, when time races
to a line? I have poetry to write
and scant few minutes to open cases
of pentameter and arrange by sight.
The pre-dawn darkness flees from the arrival
of this new day and conjures cloudy sky
to prolong the shadows of survival
where creatures of the night in hollows lie.
And yet the seconds pass with no regard
towards the deadline of my ticking clock
I am no automaton, nor am I bard
to steer a sonnet into paper dock.
Time to dash but first a toilet panic
Alas! someone has shit on the ceramic.
© Rachel Green December 2024
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