Stefene

The sculpture park setting is at its best;

The poet-in-residence is seated at an IKEA desk; 

A manual typewriter in the shade on a sunny afternoon;

The grass grows and the flowers bloom.

Click click clackety click;

The words come but the keys sometimes stick.

A makeshift parasol in a place for poetry posts;

Poems you wish you could memorize most.

You write, re-write, you never quit;

Your process is personal and yours to commit;

Original works with words perfectly fit;

But now it’s time to make your exit.

A composition you imagine is about to begin.

A small crowd gathers for a tour of academy children.

A gentle warm breeze blows through.

What will you write? What will you do?