poets write with metaphors
to protect their feelings
letting others read into it--
infusing their own meaning
sometimes it hits close to home,
no matter how vague we pen
obtuseness only goes so far
when you're in the midst of it
we write of many unread books
and things left in the rain
of dances left unfinished
and songs that we once sang
we write about opening windows
and about closing tight the doors
of dense, white fog and shadows,
shrouds and birds that soar
we write of finding happiness,
of thunder and skies of blue
of footprints in sand, the ocean tides
and about the crescent moon
a metaphor does many things,
it's left to interpretation
in every singular purpose,
or every singular situation
we pen these poems as lyrics
or tag them spiritually
hoping others will read them
and find the strength they need
some may bring them close to tears
while other make them laugh
pulling from them what prose will
maybe bringing a sweet repast