she stares at a midnight page
frankness, beginning and end
the cure, a changing heart
i am not art
but I know her
resting on park bench
she contemplates lateral thinking
how they had smirked
at her “what ifs”
she tries to wrap her mind around it
the idea that ink found new home in nice-looking flowery jacket
with half-crazed sunny-faced owner
thoughts dismissed
time to write new page
by mary ann blinkhorn
mypenandme 