MOMENT OF CONCEPTION (saluting National Poetry Month)

Trapped in an unrelenting

avalanche of words,

conjuring the vision

that has made him blind,

the poet speaks volumes

without moving his lips.

An act of procreation

without touching,

but somehow you've been

touched just the same--

Aware, as you muse through

your morning walk,

and later,

rappel down the mountain of

papers on your desk,

that the words have seeped

into your being...

the seminal fluid

implanting its seed of truth.