Creativity can't appear
from some small recess
in your record-shattering brain,
it must be sparked
by a quick phrase plucked
from a passing conversation,
or the one-handed clock
striking two above the perfect
circle puddle filled with giggling
children breaking in new boots,
and the fresh scent left behind
by the retreating storm
sends you back
to the crowded backseat
of Pappy's Crown Vic
heading down the shore
for the best trip ever
Nana promised,
so you start to write
about first days of summer
and joyful anticipation,
because creativity demands
to be lived.