Dejected poets stand beside
the cliff dividing
sea from shore and fold
rejected
poems to gliders
that fly high then sink:
slide slowly to the
sea and melt like
puddles in the sand
reflecting thoughts that never made it
to the pages that
they tore
from pads of paper filled with words that poured in streams that
flowed like rivers to the
sea only to vaporize:
a mist of letters, floating down
to land and calcify inside a shell,
imprinting thoughts they feared
no one would
ever hear.
