at times I think I’ve seen you
in the distance or peripherally
when I look closer you’re gone
is it that I’m looking
that drives you to hide
or do you hide
to force me to look
for inspiration in the corners
and behind the couch
why I think you’re there
I’m not sure
but who knows exactly
where a muse will appear
like a garden gnome
or dropped penny
like a rune shaped branch
or lost sock in the road
these things speak to me
with your voice
whispering significant
nothings