Writer's Block

what does one do with writer's block we must write what we know but I have only morbid thoughts I cannot tend to those desiring flowers this is the dry and lifeless summer living things seek shade and wait for rain the poet feels the breath of death lurking and nothing seems to lift his fatal mood his notebook then must take a darker tone the ominous foreboding of the final flourish the fleuron below his signature is his terminal gesture to the spring poetry is only written for tomorrow although for you death is a shimmering mirage when it finally calls to you then you may understand