The steady flowing stream of poetry
comes to an end,
obliterated by the gush and roar
of a waterfall of ideas.
I find myself almost capsized,
swirling in the torrents,
clutching my notebook life-raft
as we wait for calmer waters.
I cover my ears and close my eyes.
I curl into a ball
as we bump along rocks, eddies, currents.
‘Hold tight!’ I think. ‘We’ve been through worse.’
Chaotic movements eventually subside.
It is safe to listen
and to open eyes.
To unfurl.
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