Pencil Thoughts
by Andrea L. Alterman


Are slow to tumble out, like pancakes on the griddle
they rise and bubble best under a low blue flame although
at first I scattered small water drops to be sizzled off,
griddles work best that way and pancakes need a brown
crust to contain themselves until they’re done. I wait
as fingers shape words from mute thoughts which don’t
want to stay inside or merge into dreams unremarked
because they come to mind at five am, that time when,
in summer I need no blankets covering my feet in socks
since my toes are not cold with cramps at their base,
bent with steps, so I sit to write with a precise pencil
those thoughts that want to hide.






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