i am

bic, some rhythm’d pen 
-sive soul etching cloudwords 
to ivory sky. 

landlocked mermaid, 
dry scales thirsting 
for ocean, ink. 

thinking; thanking. 
drinking in the rum
-bled scribbled scrambled 

song of some language 
i no longer speak. i am 
tossing letters (spaces) 

to the breeze and hoping 
some bright bird catches 
them in her beak. i blink 

in morse code memories,
braille scars. the stars 
are all i know of my own 

syllables, and when i 
cannot dot-to-dot the day,
                              i pray. 

and so it begins… April Poem a Day Challenge, day 1.

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