Writing – A Love Letter

By Andrew R. Duckworth

I can pour out my scathing,
My broken and brutal,
My ruthless, my scorching,
My harshest critique.

I can speak plainly
Or I can dance about,
Give profound vagueness,
The kind that frustrates
Both reader and writer,
Journeying forward together.

I can unleash unbearable joy,
Sunshine and waterfalls,
A sunlit field, a beach
Lit by the moon after nightfall,
Listen to the waves rush in,
Make it happen in a scribble.

The pen and paper and the mind
Give birth to elements of design.