By Lynn White

I wondered what they were thinking,
all those grinning people
standing around him
taking their selfies.
I wondered what he was thinking
but I don’t think they cared
or even noticed
that he looked strained
as if he had a problem,
looked uncomfortable
as if perched on the edge of a toilet
straining with effort.
Perhaps that was his problem,
ideas don’t come when you strain,
they float into your head dreamlike
glowing gold
as you stretch out your arms into infinity
glowing gold,
with no one around
to take selfies.

“I write to let the words escape.” – the writer

One thought on “Thinkers

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