On Poems

Today I wrote an email that turned into a poem.
Another email was poetic, but quite on accident.
Both, accidental,
actually.

Where do they come from,
words that paint and sounds that dance and punctuation that speaks on its own?
It's been quite a while since I've written a poem.
It's been so long,
in fact,
that I thought I forgot,
Thought I'd lost it together with age and with living better.
Thought it had gone the way of teenage angst and RPGs,
of stories written for different Me's.

But there it was,
sitting on the screen,
And here it is again...



It's funny though.
I've still forgotten.
Poems don't sound beautiful
after they've been written.