Curious Beginnings

Do you know, I consider my poetry an embarrassing detail about myself?

No, really.

When people ask me what I write I always say ‘short stories’ or ‘essays’ or ‘novels’–even though I haven’t written one since I was thirteen. (because let’s face it, i’ll never top that work of genius)

Because isn’t that pretentious, saying that, and won’t they look down on me, and it’s probably no good anyway–and it probably isn’t.

And yet I start this blog and what do I post?

Not once or twice but twelve times in a row?


And a few people read it, people I don’t know and will never meet, but hello you beautiful people, you’ve read words I that come to me

in the cracks of the day while the sun slides his fingers back over the mountains

or ghosting between the lines in my textbooks

or under my fingers as I play the piano

or around the syllables of a customer’s question.

And you’ve read them and listened for a moment, and what a curious thing that is.

So thank you, to the early few as I’m limbering up my voice. Let’s have a go at it, shall we?


One thought on “Curious Beginnings

  1. Ha! I just love the imagery here. Poetry is nothing to be ashamed of….it better not be, cause it has oozed out of me for years!


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