Writing
I’m not promising a post every day—but I AM writing something every day. Here’s a poem back from the early weeks of doing this daily stuff.
Writing
there once was a woman
who tried to create
a chant or a poem
each day before eight
she tossed and she turned
every night in her bed
to put down the words
that would swirl in her head
sometimes it was poetry
other times it was prose
there were days it was easy
and nights it just froze
but over and over
in darkness or light
her pen scratched out words
either serious or trite
she could barely begin
barely come to a halt
she wrote down pure sugar
she scribbled pure salt
but at first and at last
as she jumped and she hopped
she couldn’t – just couldn’t –
couldn’t come to a stop
