Where do my Poems Come From?

I wish I could say “inside,”
but that says exactly nothing.

Some poems start fast:
a word, a phrase, or a line,
then the work begins:

to shape the similes, descriptions,
meter and rime
(however you choose 
to spell it).

Most poems take time, 
even years of oral reciting; 
realigning words;

changing syntax and length of lines
to so express,
in words
the sounds I am wanting. 

What I want is smooth,
something anyone can read aloud
and remember,

without hesitations and stumbles,
and can recite
in memory 
beloved images and phrases.

Some poems in this process add fat,
but most grow thin, 
even so,
to the essentials

as we poets, who age 
grow more spare, 
with each passing year
in  body, as well as in thought.

have no time for intellectual riddles, 
but recognition of
what is and 
what isn’t important:
what’s wrong, what’s right.

So it is with my poems
as parents are with children. 
Of some I’m no longer proud.

Some are lame or crippled. 
Nonetheless, I love.
As a whole they bring great satisfaction.

So from whom or where poetry comes,
I am most grateful.