I have nothing to say.
I am a blank slate.
For days now my word well has been dry,
My tongue has been stuck like thick black ink pasted to bottle sides.
Ideas, once overflowing and running freely, circle without color.
Scribble, circle, scribble. Nope. No ink.
Where they've gone and when they will return there is no telling.
My thoughts sit on opposite sides of the porch swing and stare,
moving in tandem but not daring to inch too close lest they unite and form an idea.
So I'll wait and swing and hope that one day soon my thoughts and ideas and words will run freely once again.