A poem is just words
and spaces.
I write the words, but
the poem grows
in the spaces,
like the wilderness
at the edge of the park,
like the wolf
in the dog
like the weed
pushing up
through tarmac
like the seagull nesting
on an office block cliff.
Day 28 of NaPoWriMo, and we are asked to write a “metapoem” – a poem about poems.
Maybe this is actually a poem about metaphors. It was originally going to end with “the poem grows in the spaces”, but I can’t stop the words, sometimes. http://www.napowrimo.net/day-twenty-eight-5/
Sarah writes poems 
Quite so! And the knack is offering ample limb in the words — grapple for the poem to fly up to and perch upon and sing.
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Good job. I had the same problem with the word not wanting to stop. 😉
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