Friends… I’m late to the party here. Traveling without good access to wifi. But, tra la, my November poem. We tackled ekphrastic poetry this month — aka making a poem based on a piece of art. Here’s the piece of inspiration we chose, and here’s my accompanying poem:
I was twelve.
I didn’t fit in anywhere.
I know what you’ll say –
that no 12-year-olds
fit, not exactly, and plus,
fitting isn’t the goal.
But let’s say
it was my goal – to be
a simple spoon stacked
in the kitchen drawer
with the other spoons,
to be useful and plain
as soap.
What if what I wanted
more than anything
was to be the cabbage,
the pale white potato,
the single stalk in the endless
acres of corn, wrapped up
tight and tidy, just the
smallest wisps and curls
of silk showing.
But I was twelve, a girl,
and it was hard to hide.
I tried. I wintered alone
in the greenhouse – an iris
bulb under peat moss, sore
with everything, the who
I was, the who I’d come from.
The who I would become.
Now, please please please go read the poems written by my pals:
Sara Lewis Holmes
Tanita Davis
Laura Purdie Salas
Kelly Fineman
Tricia Stohr-Hunt
Andi Sibley
And Poetry Friday, you ask? HERE IT IS!!
