ready or not
A poem went looking for its author.
“Ready or not, here I am,” announced the poem.
“Just a minute,” replied the author.
He selected three new pencils and sharpened them
and set them in a neat row on his desk. Next he strolled
to the kitchen to boil water. While his tea was steeping,
he brushed his teeth, washed behind his ears, and clipped
a few stray hairs from his mustache. Then, teacup in
hand, he returned to his study. He arranged himself
at his desk, picked up a pencil, and prepared to write.
The poem had slipped away, without a word.
– Bruce Bennett