ink drawings drew me
into the soft wartime pages
of literature

books were creamy

words plunked
into proper places
giving order

steel nibs guided ink
the hatched rough
massive trees and trolls

good books were worn
well-handled treasures
imaginary love, life lived

I drew out of the drawn
the desperate determination
to find those trees, brooks

now ink and light
soft strokes of pens
and words are gold

and I though old
am young and bold

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About riverwriter

Poet, playwright, duplicate bridge player, website designer, cottager, husband, father, grandfather, former athlete, carpenter, computer helper for my friends, theatre designer, backstage polymath, retired teacher of highschool English, drama, art, a baritone singer in a barbershop quartet, who knows what else? wordcurrents is on Facebook: Doug also has a Facebook page, "Incognitio", related to his novels.
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