Philosophical

Where does the poet turn 
when the words cannot be found 
who will see him 
throughquiet nights 
and solemn days 
as he fumbles in thought 
at a scene already written 
an emotion already spent 
the frightening possibility 
that his dreams have all been dreamed 
his nightmares all survived 
the poet's eye if narrowed 
is blind 
a cold wind turns the corner 
as he makes his way 
to the nearby park 
with pencil and pad 
he will gaze in infinite wonder 
the children at play 
the Sun on the bay 
and he will wish he could live 
the words once again