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Flow

I don’t know
If what I write is good
But I do because I should
When I am in the poem
I feel a rush, a kind of high
The words tumble, from the sky
Perhaps that’s what they all call flow
As if it’s new, but it’s not
We know
It’s just the buzz word of the mo
It’s when your focus becomes your soul
We have long been in the midst of it
Mind racing to find those nuggets
Those snippets
Words to paint pictures with

© Pamela Morrison

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