This photo represents my in-laws 50th Wedding Anniversary. They still hold hands when they walk through the mall. They will soon celebrate anniversary 64. I for one indulge in the beauty of their relationship.
I found this poem written on a legal pad. I visit the book store almost once a week and I read poetry or books about writing. I wrote a note in the margin about why I was writing this particular poem. It seems I had jotted down the idea from a book which suggested to write about asking your shadow to appear somewhere in the house.
This is what I wrote:
a note to let me know
how annoyed it was
because I never acknowledge its existence
I know it is there
trying to out do me all the time
I tried telling my shadow
that I am not jealous at all
I compared our heights
There is no doubt
I am definitely taller
but more importantly
I am funnier and have
an excellent sense of humor.
As I read this again today I thought what a silly poem. I want to work on it a bit more. I have a grandson that I am sure is curious about his shadow. So I will write him a poem about what his shadow might be thinking. I think he will get a kick out of it. This is a poem that will evolve.
We have not had much of a winter season so I started to do my spring cleaning to take advantage of the mild weather. I vowed to get rid all I could that was stored in our attic. We collected quite a bit over the thirteen years we’ve lived here. As usual I begin with great fervor then manage to sit comfortably on a big cushion and before I know it I am reading my old poems. I pay particular attention to the rewrites and the notes I had written in the margins to myself. I look at the dates and relive the moment that may have inspired the poem. Then I start writing again on related or similar themes. Sometimes I simply follow through with some of the edits I had suggested. I never get around to throwing out any of the stuff I had planned to discard.
I suppose many writers do the same thing. But I think poets become reengaged in the process. I started reflecting on how poems evolve and why the ones that end up in an attic or any place for that matter somehow come back to inspire new thoughts. I feel like I have found new treasures. Although sometimes I find one poem I really hated from the beginning and just tear it to shreds.
I will share some of the poems I rediscovered and I hope that you will send me your comments. I hope that you go back into your attic and look for those poems you have written in the past or the new ones that were reborn.