now that I’m free from the confines
of job and position, schedule and plan
where will my course take me
as I drop my tools and brushes
to take up the pen and embrace
the ephemeral world of words
wood and stone build houses
paint and canvas become works of art
while words float all about us
calling us by our names
and announcing lunch while waiting
to be lines of poetry or prose
they are certainly easier to carry
and don’t require a truck or cart
but only a twist and occasional turn
artists drive trucks and novelists cars
while poets walk and essayists talk
their courses all defined in words
if time does any telling it will be in words
laid atop other words which rest on a base
of words and letters and spaces and