Poem: A Quiet Smoke

Denigrating my own work.

A Quiet Smoke

Poetry, the real stuff, the serious thing
kindles in the mind, internal heat that builds
to finally to burst its flame upon the page
An Instantaneous combustion of thought
as might raze a loft of new green hay

My work is verse at best, a struck match
that flares momentarily, then blown out
A blaze to light my cigarette, hands cupped
My words will never burn a building down,
but then a quiet smoke is what I’m after
Poetry Collection: Corner of My Mind
This poem is included in
Jim Freeman's
poetry collection

available here in print
or as an e-Book
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