Creativity After 50
In my head there should be a factory
Unfortunately it may be closing
It’s more like a dying pet store
animals abandoned
shelled seeds strewn on cage floors
birds flutter around the bars
searching to fly free
peck for seeds but live on
stray chaff
Maybe a hamster on a rusted wheel
each claw griping pulling for
a rotation
just one orbit forward
May settle for a half-squeaked turn
as if to go somewhere
unvisited
Maybe it’s not an abandoned
store perhaps it is the dusty
yellowed lightbulb in the horse barn
on my childhood farm
flickering with the aluminum
tin backstop covering the socket
cobwebs like curtains
lifting and falling
blurring the dirty
forgetful light