A Sidewalk Tale
Strolling down an unfamiliar street
in the City, last spring;
Trying to find relief from
the legendary Writer’s Block,
that has been reported to afflict
Others more talented than me.
Oh, how it pains me, this Block;
This absence of ideas, for a year and more.
Will this new scene resurrect my senses?
And give me more stories to tell?
Or, am I forever doomed to Mentalis Blockitis?
A scourge from the ages.
Looking sideways at a pretty girl going by,
I stumble into a sign,
placed on the sidewalk.
Who put this sign in my way?
I ask out loud.
A man could stumble--
a woman could stumble;
Anyone could stumble.
Isn’t there a law banning street clutter
to protect innocent pedestrians?
Recovering my balance, I read
the first lines of the sign:
“You May tell a tale
that takes up residence
in someone’s soul,”
Whose sign is this? I grumble.
Where am I on this dreadful street?
This strange neighborhood,
with no concern for the safety of mankind?
I regain my balance and look up.
It is some dumb bookstore,
trying to entice a passerby to enter
with its know-it-all writers’ philosophy
and cutesy graphics.
Well, they won’t get me to enter,
with such a specious entreaty, I decide.
Then, I read some more of the sign
standing in my way:
“Becomes their blood,
and self, and purpose.”
Ye Gads! I mutter,
How pretentious of someone;
Some over-confident writer,
or self-appointed observer of the literary scene.
To suggest that a writer’s words
could infect a reader’s blood, and self,
and purpose, with a simple tale.
The Writer’s Seer continued:
“That tale will move them,
and drive them,
and who knows what,
they might do,”
That’s a scary thought,
I think to myself.
Are the writers of Horror Tales,
and Murder Tales,
responsible for all the grim things
that happen in this world?
No! I yell out loud.
My stories, my tales, are mine alone.
No one can take them!
Unless someone reads them,
And understands my mind.
I don’t know what readers of my tales may do.
Could they do Good Things?
Is there still Charity in the world?
And then, the Writer’s Seer won me over:
“Because of it, Because of your words.”
Who is this Writer’s Seer? I wondered.
The sidewalk Sign gave the attribution:
The Night Circus
I will have to look up that person, I decided.
Do a Google search.
After I go home and write the story
of A Sidewalk Tale.
About Mike Lambert
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