Is a poem like a painting,
a blank canvas layered with colors to form an image?
Or, is a poem like a sculpture,
a lump of potential carved until only that which evokes a sentiment remains?
It feels to me more like the latter,
but - then - wherein lies the lump?
Maybe it's like sculpting a lump in the dark,
until resonance takes over sculpting,
or something starts to shine?
