Common Scents

Artists to nature
great odes do compose,
like Beethoven’s 6th,
everyone knows.

I go to the kitchen
look out at the trees
I open the window
hear birds, feel the breeze.

I sit myself down
At my worn writing desk,
sharpen chewed yellow pencils,
shred these reams so grotesque.

I’m spent to the scrawl.
for that immortal phrase.
I’ve slowed to a crawl
in a Minotaur’s maze.

I break out of this maze,
the immortality phase
from pie-in-the -sky I
resign authorship.

When a bell calls, awaking -
It’s the timer for baking,
the aroma of cookie,
time to play hooky!

Steve Hluchan
This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it.