I am not a Muse.

I have looked for you in the fields
In the sand

And in the garden.

And you pay me no attention.

I have called across the waves

Down the road

And out the back door.

You do not come when you are called.

You linger on the tips of the flower petals

You sit on the cat’s whiskers

And you dance on the table.

You do not do as you are told.

You startle with the spicy pesto

You bubble in the glass of wine

And you tangle with the raspberries.
You are not a refined taste.

You are hiding in the morning mist

You whisper in the soft breezes

And you hover with the hummingbird.

You do not land.

So I will do this without you.