You started off
Creating snapshots out of words you caught,
Shouting out my name calling to my interests.
I was happy to come and be softly
Caressed by words that hate, love, feel, taste
To mediate for my torn heart strings
To just listen to the poem,
Re-understand’em get to know them.
Stick around long enough for soft images
To reconcile lost moral, revive my sense of self.
Opening led to spilled words,
You must have smiled to have heard,
Because you retorted immediately, messaged
A kind word. You became a friend of the pen,
Than a pen pal and then Stepping from
Ambiguity of dark tree limbs you
Climbed into my heart and became my friend.
The only problem is that moment you transformed,
From rhymes and font on page, to a voice
with dialect, Tenor, Volume
and inflection, something changed.
Poems I have read a dozen times,
I just can’t read the same, Because
every time I end a line
I hear a southern twang.