Ode to a Poem

Oh you wayward beast
Lurking in crevices of insight;
You fling out disjointed phrases
Like scraps of metal from a mental grinder.

You slither around corners,
Silent and hurried,
Leaving me only your shadow,
No substance to grasp...

You peek around the gate,
Under furniture,
Through windows,
Amused at my frustration.

Until, tired of games,
You run away,
Or come to be put to bed
Between paper and pen.

cjw