A Writer's Found Poem

I peer out from behind 

the dividing screen,

unseen, walled in by doubt,

wondering why I stay

in this country of

costumes and capers,

a dream of story-telling,

my writing hand stilled.

Childhood was like that,

a series of hard knocks,

until I learned I could leave.

And so I will step away,

walk along leaf-strewn paths,

hear again the call 

of Canada geese flying south, 

and breathe in the season’s turn

in the little sharp bite of the wind,

knowing I will write again tomorrow.

Honey Locust at Finch Arboretum (Camp 2014)

Yesterday’s poetry prompt from Octpowrimo.com asked us to write a ‘found poem’, a poem constructed from a page chosen at random from a book in our library. 

I chose Hilary Mantel’s Wolf Hall (page 269), a book long on my ‘to read’ pile and then wrote the poem above, drawing from these words: writing hand, why, country, stay, knows, walled, knocks, costume, capers, childhood was like that, unseen, dividing screen.