Breakfast At Epiphanys

That cool tired early morning habit

In the lights under the tent

As the words, other people's minds flow past

Suddenly a flash here, connection there

Noticing the people noticing the readers, looking

Anywhere, the sky, birds, each other

Anywhere but the reader's eyes

That sudden insight, giving a new voice

To the chorus inside

I borrow your voices and don't give them back, put them

Inside my psyche, part of my concept

Of language

My virus, my muse speaks only

On the cool morning when coffee flows and voices holler

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Deborah E Russell's picture

Good title...humorous.