Always, I want to see
their place of work
I sit and wonder
of the artist’s desk
what trinkets, what tools
they choose
Always, I picture in my mind
the artist’s desk
and what pin-tacked postcards
what scribbled notes of inspiration
may surround it
Is it by a bright window
or in the bowels of a basement
Do they toil below a craning lamp
or by dim candle flicker
do they have a desk at all
or just a strong knee
Always, filled with nosiness
I love to imagine
the artist’s desk
the magic place
where they give birth
to what always was…
[2019]
Thanks for reading.
The Lighthouse 