Some of my best friends are turning 30, and I’m going through a bit of a writer’s block, so… I share with you a poem I wrote last year.
Writing In My 30’s
The ink is still in the damn pen.
All that is caught in my mind
—true, searching, consuming things,
are but an empty page.
A boy’s well-laid plans lost,
dreams of rockets and guns and applause
by ugly pickets, cluttered garages, blank cubicles.
I had plans
—but it’s always like this.
The shape we want to make
eludes our attempts to write it.
© 2014 Regis Saxton