A Fall Before Evening

Can I pull a poem out of the air Like a magician Catching coins Or must I labor like Hercules To topple the temples of the Gods Into golden dust I don't have a feeling for these slaughtered words My mind half sleeping Becomes its own allusion A sacrifice too great for holy assurance Break with me the rhyme of Yesteryear Find in the silent space between Light and shadow The pregnant thought that gives birth To a language all its own. ~ Laurence Overmire (Previously published in academici, Sept.2005; Flutter Poetry Journal, Jun-July 2008; Magic Poems, Papyrus Press LLC,2024)