Poem

Reading Poetry


The world does not come at us in order.

We sweep across it being struck by what

comes to our attention; assembling it or not

into something meaningful, memorable.

That some of it rhymes with recall

or that some of it leaps

from disconnectedness to grandeur,

we ascribe to a readiness for wonder,

but mostly it is our native ability

to stitch together meaning

where the only narrative happening is our own.

Poetry is not alien to us. It is

the language and grammar of our world.

It is our routine - this reading and writing of each day.



May 27, 2014