I am not equipped
for a new poem —
not today; instead
I have prepared myself
for a lack of them entirely —
a lack of new poems! Entirely
to be without thought
and ultimately reaction.

Let the wind
and rain and lovely, lovely clouds
wash them cleanly from our
crowded, crooked minds —
yours too.

Yours too;
may you be free of a new poem
till the next day after this, or
the next day or the day after that.
You don’t need one when instead
you are one with the news of a poem.
When you are the news of a poem.
When the poem vanishes, a leaf
on a breeze.