A SONNET WITH LOTS OF QUESTIONS

Do you think he’ll write again today?
Do you think he’ll have enough to say?
I wonder sometimes where he finds so much
to keep on . Perhaps we’ve had enough.

Weary of his writing down so much?
Tired of this-and-that and such-and -such?
Wish that he’d decide to go away?
Wish that he’d  appear another day?

There is a possibility he’ll cease —
but perhaps not ‘til he is deceased.
Who knows when poets  can no longer shape
the proper words a poem or two to make?

A reader can refuse to read his muse
and that reader might have much to lose.

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