The Travel Journal

Thursday, March 12th, 2015

My wife bought me a travel journal,
leather bound –
with a map of the world exquisitely rendered
across the front and back covers –

a work of art
with an imposing ream of blank parchment
bound between its elegant leather.
I’m thinking of titling it “Writer’s Block”.

Can I write anything in this without feeling like
I’m carving a heart pierced with Cupid’s arrow
and the words Tony loves Maureen
across the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel?

How can I not write what I’m writing now –
knowing that the words pierce – two hearts –
and still write something worth reading?
Fortunately, Cupid struck us both true.


2 thoughts on “The Travel Journal

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