Sunday, April 05, 2009

Untitled

(Tom's 21st Birthday, the merest beginnings of a poem that has nothing to do with him, poor fellow. I could have at least written him a birthday poem! Or not.)

Pry from me
An open-handed moment

Tire iron and fist
Full of nails for mending

Those spinnaker hearts
Caught sailing

Into the branches
Of wintering trees

(I'm feeling better about this process. I like the idea of writing crap, but then moving on the next day to more crap, instead of spending months thinking about one thing. If I can make it through the month I'll have a tidy pile to sift through, with maybe some things to keep.)

3 comments:

Talia said...

Absolutely! Look at you go!

SarahJane said...

Really. It's excellent NOT to dwell, but push on. enjoyed.

Charmi said...

It's certainly an entirely new work ethic for me ;-) Thank you both for the encouragement!