Scrawlings

Eleni Stephanides

Pen hits paper
Mind strides forward
Ink attempts to follow
A sometimes futile endeavor
The thoughts march faster
Than the pen’s faithful scamper
Our words faulty shoes,
Often we are torn
Like th /
is,
In ha /
lf.
Trying to choose between two words,
or five.
Infinite possibilities beget frustration,
Stagnation.
But at the moment of clarity they all march forward;
(Letters),
Clicking into place like shoe clasps
One word after another,
working in unison to create movement and resonance.