Poems by Cassandra Lowery

Solitude II

In this house,

so rarely emptied

of childish noise,

I twist my pen. Tap it.

Twist it again.

Will any thought commit itself

to this blank page?

Words drop in for a visit,

look about curiously,

take their polite leave.

Occasionally a few decide to remain,

clustered together, absorbed in conversation.

Images are greeted,

link with one another,

decide to stick around for a while

to see what may happen.

Only when alone

can I grasp the words and phrases

who teasingly wink at me,

pirouetting just beyond my reach.

Finally I capture a few,

pin them down

to the page where

they seriously consider

surrendering to my will....

For words, you know,

have minds totally their own,

and we writers,

despite the illusion of power,

remain their servants.

~Cassandra Lowery

Written October 2007

Revised January 2017