creep through the small door <br />the large door <br />towards the sleeping poet <br />large on the small bed. <br /> <br />Poetry is something <br />you say <br />to take for yourself <br />not to steal <br /> <br />but i do not listen <br />i go closer closer <br />so many bells in the background <br />i walk to his side. <br /> <br />Poetry abounds in his head <br />i snatch an idea <br />bells ringing <br />and run<br /><br />Emerald Griffin<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/stealing-from-ee-cummings/
