THIS IS HOW I WRITE A POEM:

stuck in traffic
Hwy 37
window down

left arm dangling out
I’m struck
by the missing sensation

of the wedding ring
on my finger
it has been months

freehand
I see that word
in my head

a cluster forms around it
drawing life
as you conceive it

a fresh and unique
point of view
the hand you grab

that lifts you up
a metal band
plays on the radio

I’m banging
on the door
with my free hand