Writer's Block

At this particular moment
I can't easily select
from the cavalcade of thoughts
that
tumble
down
into
my
consciousness
and spin around me
as carousel horses
not the red one
not the blue one
not the black one
not the green one
not the white one

Wait!
Yes!
The white one!
with the gold saddle and bridle!
The flared nostrils!
... leather reins!
... galloping hooves!

I start to move
It rises

beyond

my

grasp.

© 1997 William Edward Ilse
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