North American Dreaming: The Tip Of My Quill
There is sweet solace in the words which flow from the tip of a quill, as William Burkholder confirms.
My escape comes in the form of the quill.
Fleeing to a land of insight,
self aware that 1 do not travel alone.
There are many who wander this lonely poetic trail.
Pioneering in spirit,
casting our nets,
to receive the bounty of inspiration.
Some falter and drown,
washing ashore,
to set out again and again.
To win the battle of paper and pen.
And now and again, sweet solace
in words found at the tip of my quill
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