I feel like I'm not putting in enough writing time these days. I still write my short - ten-minute - poem every morning and a journal entry every night before I go to bed, but I have three started memoirs that I need to work on and finish once and for all. But all is not grim. I still attend my memoir class every week and read a piece there at least twice a month. I also still write in my writing group the first and third Tuesdays of the month. At the start we're given a prompt, write for about forty-five minutes, and then read what we've written in real time to the group. I have that opportunity this afternoon. As always, it's very nerve racking. Here are four recent poems I wrote lately about my current writing life. Why do I keep at it? Why am I so obsessed? I don’t have to write A poem a day I don’t have to write A journal entry every day. But still I sit down here And open my computer, pull Up my ten-minute poem doc And scroll down To the end, Three hundred and Thirty-two … [Read more...]
What I Miss
Paul loved playing the piano What I Miss Twelve years didn't erase him. He is still with me everyday. The memories haven't dimmed. I clearly see his face, his clear blue eyes, his buzzed hair in my mind. I miss hearing him play his music as his bent fingers lightly trickled up and down the keyboard. I miss hearing his footsteps on the stairs and hardwood floors as he prowled around the house at night. I miss hearing his deep voice as he said, hello when he came home from work I also miss his expertise. He solved our computer problems at night leaving carefully written instructions in his childish printing for us to find the next morning. I don't miss his smoking, I don't miss his bad moods during his last few years, I don't miss that his sickness sometimes made him angry and me angry at him. No, I don't miss those things. But, I don't think about them. I just think about the things about him that I miss. 2008, 2011 … [Read more...]
