I Would Be An Inkling

I would be an Inkling.
But would they have me?

For though I, like them, in ink do write,
Stark reality
Trumps presumption,
And I yield
To listen and watch them run.

But then, I suppose,
The little inkling I have
Of why they laughed and cried and lifted cups
And inked about—
That smallest inkling, though slight,
Might be light enough
To crack the door,
And set a chair,
And then for them

To invite this wee inkling in.

Elliott Tepper

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