Pushing Words

My words, like a herd of range- wise cattle,
are scattered in every direction, reluctant
to form sentences or express thoughts.

The adjectives have all bunched together
and broken off at a run, stampeding toward
a small canyon to the west.

To the east, the nouns and a small scattering
of verbs have wandered toward a small creek,
grazing- determined to ignore my pleas to
arrange themselves into an opening stance.

To the north, most of the other verbs and
prepositions have spread among the tall
brush and brambles, solitary clusters of
vowels and constants determined not to be
herded or gathered.

Behind and toward the south are the stragglers:
the descriptive and slow to move adjectives and
adverbs, the stubborn pronouns, and finally the all
but impossible prepositional phrases and conjunctions.

However the day has started and the time for writing
has begun. So I toss the last bitter taste of coffee onto
the fire and saddle up. There are poems to write, novels
to begin and love letters to find out there on the range.

Time to gather the herd;
time to push some words.

gng 2-21-08