Herding poems

“Nobody ever said to van Gogh, ‘Paint The Starry Night again, man’,” — Joni Mitchell

They appear like apparitions

that my pen races to convert

before they are gone.

I learned very early to carry a little book

to honor their swift flight.

When I first became aware of them,

I gathered them in booklets

to hand out to my angst-filled

teenaged friends. For a certain period,

I sang them. And songs are requested

much more often than poems or paintings.

I’ve never asked where they come from.

I just reach out

and pen them, a living herd corralled.

Who would expect to see a unicorn

with an owl, a buffalo and a panther

all together, pacing, flapping,

rustling for your attention?

I keep them like a box of costumes

for my grandchildren.

Try on any of them,

let yourself be transformed.

I’ll play along.

Inspired by The Daily Word Prompt: costume