The Blank Page

The blank page
Stares back at me
Like a Rorschach
Drawing
Of my
Unconscious
Mind
Waiting
Waiting
Waiting
For a drop
Of ink sweat
To drip
From my
Forehead
Down my nose
And on to the
Paper below
Splat!
Splat!
Splat!
Black as ink
Like bullet holes
In space
What do you
Make of it?
What do you
See?
I see a bat
I see a tree
I see a breast
A nipple
Lips
Broken fingers
A dead bee
A piece of
Lemon pie
A lemon
A lime
A carrot
I see the faces
Of my
Grand children
I see my
Impending death
I see the mourners
At the graveside
I see the black cars
With their
Head lights on
I see a mound
Of fresh dug earth
I see a black
Sparrow
A raven
A crow
I see the entire
Cemetery
As if from
A hot air balloon
I see clouds
I see drifting away
I see amber lights
I see
Lightening bugs
I see
A weeping willow tree
Growing by the pond
Where I used
To ice skate
As a child
I see my daughter’s
Face laughing
I see tears
I see rain drops
I see cherry blossom
Leaves
Fall leaves
Brown leaves
Red leaves
Yellow leaves
I see an arch angel
Gabriel perhaps
Blowing his golden horn
Perched atop
A very high
Church steeple
And cows
Cows grazing
In the pasture
Shucking off
Clouds of
Flies
And bees
With the pendulum
Swings
Of their tails
Then another quick
Flash of lightening
And the silhouettes
Of the distant trees

jhmarkowitz
Philadelphia, Pa. 2011