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'Just A Little Of My Soul, On a Senseless January Night'

Standing on the porch
a pad and pen clutched in my trembling hand,
staring at the street
scene-
images of a movie
I saw tonight
twining a labyrinth 'round my thoughts
and Christmas lights
on this cold January night catch my jaundiced eye.

It is late - the hour
full of darkness
and smelling of snow.

I'm waiting to write
something
about...it
for you,
just for you.
I can't feel what it is - I don't know what it is!

The point, I suppose, is just to start
and to catch it off-guard,
unsuspecting,
and then go inside
to inhale warmth
and the heavy blankets that smell of melting dream
and to fall asleep
wondering
if I found it
in the trembling thin wind
and fresh snow
and Christmas lights in January
and if maybe, just maybe, it was in there
all along
just waiting for me
as I waited for it
out here.

The point is to keep it alive,
nurture it
to keep writing it
until
there's finally something to give.

Learn more about this author, Christopher Lapinel.
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