The Writing Game

Erasure poetry

Photo from Pixabay on Pexels

It was wonderful,
long flights of luck,
until I had a new story
and
I could not get it going.

In front of the fire,
into the edge of the flame,
I would stand and look:

“Do not worry.
You will write now
one true sentence,”
and from there
cut that ornament out,
throw it away.
Start with the
first
simple
declarative sentence.

Up in that room
I decided I would write
one story I knew;
I would be working,
I would be listening
and noticing,
learning,
and I would read,
I would think.

When I worked well
was a wonderful feeling:
I was free.