Blank Page

The blank page stares.
It knows your weakness,

is your weakness.
It knows how you felt when

you shot that small songbird
when you were ten.

It knows how you were drawn:
smudged charcoal lines,

very little ink, almost no color.
Somehow, the bounce in your step

survived and you discovered how
recognizing your own ignorance

was a gift that eased your hunger.

charcoal bird


(bird from; charcoal from

About Jim Stewart

Writer at Butt in Chair
This entry was posted in Birds, Consciousness, Humans, Man, Poem, Writing and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

4 Responses to Blank Page

  1. Staring at a lot of blank pages these days. 5,000 words in three days. 45K to go. 🙂

  2. Fager says:

    Ya got me, Jim. You always do.

  3. U were still nailing small songbirds at 13
    Or not…but superhero in the woods infinitely

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