I have been feeling absent from poetry for a few weeks. It’s winter, dark, that time of year, busy, noisy, full. Today a poem came to me fully formed, literally jumping out of the bushes as I was walking to my office from the parking garage. How fortunate I am. Maybe it’s the habit of being grateful that happens over Thanksgiving weekend. Maybe it’s just time for the little voice to make itself known a little more vehemently. I’ll be listening in December and posting some poem drafts here, for you to enjoy. For me, too.
Monday December First
Walking past the hummingbird sage
Smells like a workday.
Jennifer Swanton Brown (c) 2014