A poem for those who have inspired me.

Decades compress and time bends itself
around me, circuitously,
words jump from the printed page at me
just as energetically
as they did in my youthful days (long since passed)

I am the sum of myself, multiplied by many
in any form I devoured the content
my appetite was large!
the inspiration to rise or dress myself
to be bored rigid lay in those author’s caresses,

My inspirations, poor imitations, now mock me
but I to must flow or find my spirits’ stream
to follow even in my dreams, it seems to be
an essential part of me.

Chris 2024