Inspiration

it's fading and I cannot hold it in my mind
the picture of what I had thought to share
expression of what I had longed to speak
a dream, dying.
 fear the empty page
  the glaring open spaces
   the flat white nothing
    haunts me

i fear the loss
the scorned muse

I cannot see it
 it flits outside the focus of my mind
  like some nervous creature
   startled into movement by the light

    film of dust atop well-worn shelves
   smell of pages filled with eloquence
  taste of graceful deterioration
 sound of isolated peace
feel of distressed leather
to recover what was lost.