The creative process |
A Musing I'm flanked by a couple of muses, their names are Eb and Flo. One is a horse's hobble, the other a rocket of go. Flo is a spritely spirit engaged in an endless quest, climbing every mountain, she's never been seen at rest. Eb is an iron anchor keeping my craft at bay, a languorous, lazy fellow, he'll never be seizing the day. Flo is a shot of espresso, revved and ready to race. Eb is a sip of old whiskey, drowsy and settled in place. One is a flaring sparkler, the other a snuffed-out wick. One makes a call to action, the other just calls in sick. Flo is like whitewater rapids, ideas bubble up in a rush. Eb is an aimless eddy, drifting along in a hush. Flo is the queen of oughta, Eb is the essence of wait. Flo is eagerly early, Eb always shows up late. Flo makes a constant pleading, time to get off your duff, but Eb gives the final verdict, tomorrow is soon enough. Author's note: ▶︎ 32 lines |