He sits and stares
the world passes by.
Birds sing, outside
planes fly.
He lifts the pen
the page to replenish
a few words written
the sentence left unfinished.
He puts on the kettle
and drinks a cup of tea
wanders round the hallways
then has another three.
One hour later
again at the table
with fresh sheet of paper
is his pen more able
to complete the work to hand
or continue to struggle?
is he facing writer’s block
or is his mind just in a muddle?
© Sheila Ash 27th March 2017
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