For the Muse

tammystone

for the gardens
that never succumb
to the weight of
their history,
for the ancient
wooden structures
that become
more full of love
with each passing
year, until one
day they will
collapse from
the enormity of
this love that has
seeped into
its bones,
for the muse,
which compels me
to bring heart to hand,
word to page,
even when i don’t
know what i
have to say,
even when no
expression will
ever reflect
what inside, too
is always changing,
with gratitude
for the trying,
for the going on
 
– TS
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