by Chris Ochadlick
In the early hours, sometimes before
morning slips over the horizon into a new day,
she quietly appears without warning
leaving gifts of words and thoughts
mined from my subconscious.
As these gifts morph into poetry,
she reappears for a short time
offering gentle guidance and suggestions
with empty spaces or whole lines.
Once the finished poetry appears,
leaving that part to me,
she departs confident knowing
the gifts she leaves behind
are put to good use.