The reader reads...
yet the poet responds in refrain to the touch of finger to page,
the will of minds edges frayed out to engage,
the falling faltering of last remaining distance,
The reader reads, and understands.

The writer writes....
yet the reader knows little for the yesterdays that passed in the end,
only the visions poetic dancing in the head,
the faltering reality that imagination rends,
But the writer writes.

The story flows....
The reader reads, the writer envisions dreams,
the understanding underlying of knowledge streams,
reality disbanded even if for a while gleams,
yet the story.... flows.

© Tom Stanley