Saturday, March 04, 2006

A darned shame

Poetry is always about the big themes--
the big concepts.

Why can't it be about stuff
like the ghost of the young woman
I saw on the second floor of the house
where my Mom and Dad and Sis and I
lived back in '54 when I was in the second
grade: the cold and brooding house
just a little outside
the city limits of Galena, Illinois?

It seems a shame.


At 9:25 AM, Blogger Cuppa said...

Hi Lynn - thanks for the note. I need to dust of my poetry books and feast awhile too. My soul feels a tad dry and parched these days and there is a deep well full of refreshing water waiting for me just under that layer of dust.


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