Words Out of Thin Air

Others anchored firmly by something I've seen or heard

Sometimes 
when pen touches paper
words appear
and I don't know why
or from where.

Maybe some 
dark recess
of my mind 
or subliminally 
from last night's dream
or the nightmare 
from the night before.

First Hand, Joan Miro

Other times,
it's quite clear,
they're words anchored firmly
by something I've seen,
like a coyote trotting up the street,
or something I heard,
like kids yelling in the playground a block away,
or something I just touched or held,
like Margot's little fingers.

Those words land with heft
versus those that creep lightly 
out of a pencil 
and onto paper
seemingly out of think air.

They mysteriously appear
while my eyes glance away,
while I was distracted
by the sunrise
or that squirrel 
on the tree outside my window
or my grocery list.

I need eggs, butter
and cheese,
maybe half a melon 
and (mysteriously) 
some ice cream!