The young poet brings his children
 out of hiding from a desk drawer
 Lying on his bed curled under covers
 of flannelette blue sky and billowy clouds
 his muse inhabits her own personal heaven.
 In this crystal moment
 she glimpses his soul
 offered as a gift.
 He reads his poems to her
 beauty unfolding
 words not finite enough
 for what the artist senses
 always striving for perfection.
 She describes his in a single word
 For once he does not argue
 accepting her compliment.
 With the darkening sky
 anxiety creeps over her
 it’s a long subway ride home
 “Let me read one more”, he pleads
 She concedes.
 Poetry is their bond.
 He shares his best self with her
 Children of the soul.
 Dreams of the heart.

Gail’s Bio

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