I hiked behind a pink
who suddenly let out a stink.
(S)He put me on the brink
of changing how I think
about underwear
and fresh mountain air.
A friend wrote the following email:
“I apologize for intruding in your e-mail/life but I MISS YOUR POETRY SO MUCH! What happened to your one-a-day poem goal? I still check your blog at least once a day. WHEN you post, my heart starts beating & I relish every word! Then there is the day after day after day of….nothing. I hope all is well with you and you are just busy.
~A starving, yearning, craving, longing, ravenous, eager, hopeful, languishing (you get the drift) poetry fan.”
In response, several thoughts came up. This is probably the most correct (and profound):
She asked where and why/
my poems vanished. She never/
grasped her muse power.
Sometimes my complete/
honesty is tres’ scary./
Your forgiveness lifts.