Stolen Goods
A Writers’ Stash
I try to sneak up on the page.
A reverse burglar,
A smuggler of ideas
stolen from pockets and safes
to be sold in the
Blackmarket
to readers and hearers.
I tell you here that
You are a receiver of stolen goods.
For I do not know the origin
of these thoughts.
Only that they appear and
I must sell them.
I steal them through my senses.
I find them lying on the ground
in the void of sleep and daydream.
Some just show up like jewelry
for a kleptomaniac.
They are there,
like gold in my hand as I wake.
Make no mistake,
they are stolen.
I spent years letting them lie there
as I passed.
That their true owners would
return to find them.
And, sure enough, when I passed
that way again, they were gone.
So, now I scrounge and steal what I can.
I have hoarded some
til their worth was gone.
Some get broken or mangled.
But I do my best
to save the treasures
and lay them out before you.
Feast your eyes.
— — — — — — — — — —
Thank you for visiting.
Dana Sanford ~ 1/27/2019
