Laying my head aside
on the table,
I made the sun rise faster.
While closing,
then opening one eye
(and encouraged to applaud)
it hops up and down.

Inspiration can be difficult
without a strong wall
to bounce a ball.
I seek them
and they crumble upon impact.

Tiles in this table
are neatly placed end-to-end
and side-to-side.
(My poems are less organized,
but still fit nicely in my frame.)
The grout in between
holds them tightly together.

After a pedestrian moment,
a single bell tolls
and calls me to fill
or to empty my head.

I choose the latter
while the sun bounces.

*****
a poem from July 2007, slightly reworked and refocused.