How (some) poems come to me

A middle glaciers out of me.
A word, an image, something small,
Atomic with two valencies:
A good beginning, worthy end.

And if I want to make it flow
I better get the start and end
To match like hydrogen protons
That swim around an oxygen.

It’s best if there’s a little turn,
A Mickey Mouse of three quatrains
Transporting readers’ minds aboard
A Steamboat Willie whistling off.

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