A story begins
When the narrator
Steps forward
And begins
To spill her
Words into my ear,
Teasing me,
Taunting me with
A tale to be told,
An experience shared,
An image indelibly
Imprinted, leaving me
No route, or
Reason to escape.
I am blessed--
I am cursed--
By voices that
Visit,
Waiting to be
Transcribed and translated.
They wait, sometimes
Impatiently, to
Appear upon
A page somewhere-
Their chance to
Become immortal.
Copyright (c) 2011 by the author
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