Thursday, May 19, 2011

Things Happen that Way

in mid-february, at the castle, i wrote and posted a poem called 'fragments on aging.'  though the poem indeed came out of my own concerns about growing old, the details weren't necessarily accurate.  one fragment read:

the bruise has faded but the pain's still there
and now no one says
'you poor thing, what happened?

the only bruise  i had at the time was on my toe, so neither its existence nor its fading was commented on by anyone.  but i liked the sound of the line.  then 2 weeks later in prague, i took a huge spill, vastly bruising my face, and everyone was very helpful and kind and caring through the rest of the term.  so much for being abandoned because i was old.

back home, two weeks ago, i wrote and posted an essay on shaking hands.  as i explained, it wasn't so much that i thought it was an important subject, but for at least ten years, i had lines in my head for a poem about hand shaking and could never pull it together, so i decided that making it an essay would get it out of the way and it  would leave me alone thereafter.

today i sat at the computer to do tax stuff---probably the greatest prompter to write poetry, or indeed anything else, and the poem presented itself to me.  i'd never thought of a haiku, though i've written many in my life.  but i guess that's what it wanted to be.  so here it is:

hands grasp each other
arms reach out,
 create empty space.  safe.

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