They understand the power of words,
Laying traps for random thoughts.
Catching them on scraps of paper,
And breathing them to life.
Howard leads an annual hunt
Searching for the perfect verse.
They gather at the appointed time
Bringing their trophies to share.
They tell their life stories or create lives yet untold
Scribbling down sagas and whispers of worlds new and old
They are the dreamers, they are the poets
The writers of lines, hunters of tetrastich.
Sights and smells, feelings, touches, tastes
Nothing is safe from their pens.
Laughter, tears, sorrows, and joys
Preserved for generations to come.