Writer's Block

Like a stroppy teenager, one blank page defies

my intention to write down words:

an empty mind and empty paper.

Silence, blank, void – until I listen with intent

and hear my train trundle and rumble South.

I let a pen leak a few words

and some thing’s down there now.

I learned the duties of a clown from Andrew:

at home in a world of nonsense,

turning up voltage again and again;

not perfectly perfect but urging

inclusion; connecting the hearts of some people

through smiles – with spaces between all their talking and words,

where, truly, a mystery lies.