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.
