Spinning Stories

Spinning Stories

by Beth Tate



At night,
while
counting sheep

A woolly fellow
comes
fleece full
of story untold.

Gathering wool,
I pluck,
stuff pillows,
with fluffy thoughts,
until there is only pink skin bare.

I wash words
removing passive voice
that calls.

Combing ideas
picking out useless phrases,
unnecessary adjectives,
unwilling aardvarks.

Spinner tales.

Long sticky threads of:
ideas, images, emotions and more,
are pulled from me.

Threads of story,
leave holes.
in me
for bookworms
to explore.

Blots of ink,
stretched thin
go round and round,
filling screens
and spindles of paper.

Albatross quills
knit stories
into charming sweaters
and cozy afghans
that keep me warm,
as I woolgather.



Beth Tate hails from coffee shops of Seattle, where she someday hopes to return. For now, she lives someplace hot where she keeps books as pets.