Word Searching
Word Searching "Expression is all we want." - Emerson An empty Moleskine in hand, elbows on knees I sit on the weathered wooden bench and stare out across the evening summer frolics of Coolidge Park, a one-man band’s saxophonic wail wafting across the nearby bridge to drench me in the sort of thoughts nostalgics are known to think at the end of every season. A simple reason brings me to this place of self-reflection, this space and time where fading sunlight, child’s laughter, and the smell of browning leaves combine to form the frame of mind ideal for poetic creation: The need to write. I am a cup that’s overfull, a thread that’s over-taut, a top-heavy pod of dandelion seeds that only needs the slightest breeze of inspiration to then release to the world the multitudinous thoughts that despe...