To A Girl Poem by Troy Cochran

It doesn't pay to think too much.
Let the words come as they may.

Though bells may seem to ring from lofty and serene imaginings
when so much as a penny drops,

Your head, my dear, is in the guillotine, a stop away
from losing everything.

Let it roll away.

It is a little thing; the undercurrent of a dream
that flows in winding ways beneath these sweltering summer days.

Let go the chatter of your mind.
There is no music in your rhymes.

But in your absent-mindedness, my god!
your Presence is a poem...

... and your poem rings!