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Ready or Not
by Bruce Bennett

A poem went looking
for its author.
“Ready or not, here I am,”
announced the poem.
“Just a minute,”
replied the author.
He selected three new pencils
and sharpened them
and set them in a neat row
on his desk. Next he strolled
to the kitchen to boil water.
While his tea was steeping,
he brushed his teeth, washed
behind his ears, and clipped
a few stray hairs from
his mustache. Then,
teacup in hand, he returned
to his study. He arranged himself
at his desk, picked up a pencil,
and prepared to write.
The poem had slipped away,
without a word.

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