Her sad eyes
looked into my own,
and I looked away,
unable to bear the weight
of her gaze.
How did you not know?
she asked.
“I never set out to do it,
not deliberately.”
And yet, it is a part of you now.
“So it would seem.”
Will you nurture it?
“I’ve little choice.
I’ve written way too many now
to turn back.
I don’t think they’ll let me anyway.”
That seemed to bring her comfort,
and she smiled
as I wiped
her tears away.
I would have hated to leave you.
“I would’ve hated to see you go,
but peace now, Poetry.
I’m not leaving, so
come take my hand
and open your gift.”
Beyond Panic 