You are poetry. You are books. You are music.

And I?
I am dance,
the rhythm and the air
that bounces from one to another and
never stays put.
I am
the breath of a line break,
the wind turning the pages,
the full lungs of song,
the spirit of creativity.
I am
an air conditioner in a quiet room,
spinning in circles of artificiality
until I am dizzy.
I am invisible.
I am nothing you notice
until I am gone.

07/15/2004

Author's Note: I wrote this a while ago as a journal entry. This is my "found poetry" where I added line breaks and decided it was worth posting since I haven't written much of value recently anyway.

Posted on 09/18/2006
Copyright © 2024 Meredith C Hartwell