James G. Piatt’s most recent poem to appear here was “Everyday Visions” (July 2016) 

The Pen
By James G. Piatt

A poet holds a pen,
Its surface gleaming,
Its wooden handle smooth . . .
The pen is raised . . . then falls:
Ebony thorns of ink pierce the
Moon,
Peals of thunder
Echo words across the
Heavens:
The pen weaves
An archetype with each
Downward thrust,

A rusted growl emerges
Forming sentences in
Heaven’s ebony face at dusk.

The moon dribbles silver rays
Downward onto the damp earth,
Words, allegories, sentences,
Verses are etched on ancient ground,
Where the poet collects them and places
Them inside books.