Some poems write themselves
with the ease of flowers
opening in time-lapse photography.
Others leave me in a litter
of scribbled pages, green petals
ripped from a hard bud.
© 2013 by Violet Nesdoly
Are you doing a poem-a-day writing challenge during April (in honor of National Poetry Month)? I am, though I don’t have the courage to post my efforts early in the process.
Yesterday the idea I got from one of my prompt sources was irresistible but when I started writing, nothing came together. Hours later I had only a 3 stanza piece typed into my computer ending with a note to myself: “This doesn’t feel finished” along with a stack of scribbled and crossed-out false starts.
Or maybe they aren’t false starts. Maybe, as the ditty above (that came to me this morning with complete ease) would suggest, the poem I was trying to write needs a little time to ripen and those attempts were its way of telling me that.
This poem is submitted to Poetry Friday, hosted today by Robyn Hood Black at Life on the Deckle Edge.