It begins with a few

words, a blinking cursor

or the initial drops of ink

settling on a cool, new page,

a willingness to share —

to bleed or scream,

to sob or sing,

to bite or sting,

to be raw or wrap

it in form, the trappings

of a sonnet or villanelle,

a Haiku, or something

esoteric like an ekphrasis

or aubade, but for 

me, most days, poetry

is soul-speak, my heart

open and insistent

my words are as important

as breathing.

—C.L. Fisher, July 2021

Unless otherwise indicated, all writings and images are the work of C.L. Fisher and may not be copied, used, or distributed without permission.

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