Observing a Writer

 

She sits hunched, perched

like a bird but ready to pounce

hovering

fingers poised above the keyboard,

waiting to touch the letters

but doesn’t

 

brow furrowed, lips slightly parted

staring at the white screen before her

but looking right past the page

in another world

and then suddenly

she moves

 

typing faster than imagined

she presses hard on each key

and seemingly randomly – and magically –

her write page becomes strewn with black

with lips now curled into a smile,

she creates