This is Matthew D. Ward's most recent poem, received just the other day. I think it's excellent work. - poetheart 12/31/01
He sits at an old oak table,
writing his thoughts on paper.
The candlelight flickers
from the breeze of an open window.
He writes, never hesitating.
The sounds of the world, distant.
Taxis, rushing people and sirens, far.
He writes his words,
his latest masterpiece.
With no one but himself to share it.
He sits alone, relishing his latest work.
With a glass of wine in hand,
he tosses it into the fire.
by Matthew D. Ward