They told me I would write a poem every day.
After all, it’s what poets do. Isn’t it?
Yes, well: come what may
My corner of the library will never be well lit.
I cannot see to write anything.
My ink blots all over the page.
Poetry: it’s for the learned and the aristocracy,
Not for the poor and young in age.
Yet, they asked me to write a few lines.
So I am writing them.
But this is all too fine
For me to really see. It’s dark, and this is on a whim.
But they told me to write a poem every day.
After all, it’s what poets do.
Sarah Magnolia 