He is d’Artagnan,
dance and flash —
the grin, the jaunty stance,
the curled plume of the hat.
His dark eyes regard me
in absolute a-Musement
but he’s not saying a word:
this warrior is on strike.
The blade, resting sheathed,
hat and cloak laid aside
proclaim he has
as much time as it takes.
Is it up to me
to coax the words?
Is he Muse or Anti-Muse? Ah …
I know him: Animus.
He winks;
that lazy air
belies his tightening grip
around my pen.
I reach and clasp his hand.
At last — yes — action!
Been tinkering with this for 11 years! The black-out erasure method helped me pare it back to something which I could then build on anew — using bits of the original, bits of the erasure, plus some new things —and finally get to what I wanted to convey.
