The Empty ApartmentA Poem by Steph CrandallShe sat on the floor of the empty apartment, notebook in hand, pen ready. Her breath echoed through the
room. Her mind, usually racing with
thoughts, is as blank as the white
walls in front of her. Her hand craved to write, but
nothing. She scribbled on the page, hoping the mess would form
words. Scribbles, circles,
squiggles, even a stick figure of her cat, but no words. She looked over at the white
wall. It became her canvas. A field of flowers began to
erupt, then a city street, A suburban home. The drawing of her cat
started to purr, as the scribbles and circles
danced. She looked down at her paper, and suddenly, a squiggle
formed a poem. © 2011 Steph CrandallReviews
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1 Review Added on June 4, 2011 Last Updated on June 4, 2011 Author
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