A POEM ABOUT A POEM

A POEM ABOUT A POEM
A poem sits quietly,
thinking about itself—
a mirror holding a mirror,
wondering which one is true.
We think of rhymes and rhythm,
just like an anthem,
putting words together
until they start to breathe.
It asks its lines if they mean enough,
if the commas pause too long,
if the ending will be remembered
or drift away like a hum.
It knows it’s only words,
yet it hopes to be more—
a small place where someone stops,
nods, and feels understood.
And maybe that’s the secret:
a poem about a poem
is really a song without sound,
hoping its rhythm is felt.