Swamped
Hello everyone,
I've been swamped with homework. Graduate school is all about reading, giving presentations and writing papers apparently. It's much harder than my undergraduate days. But, I'm hanging in there. Right now I'm reading Small Island by Andrea Levy. A very good book about people from Jamaica who immigrate to England. There's more to it than that of coarse but that's the main idea.
Here's a new poem that hasn't been edited yet. Not sure where I'm going with this one but it's for Erin, you know who you are. Tell me what you do and don't like about it. Cheers. Sarah L.
Poem For A Friend
~For Erin
The clouds weave about the sky today.
An autumn wonder is 80 degrees
yet here in Virginia we find such a day.
I think of you miles away and realize
how days can stretch and I wonder at time.
I miss you friend. I wonder at birds
crossing your path and chicken legs
falling from the sky. This is absurd
but true. We work with line breaks
and I count syllables only to realize
this doesn’t make me a better poet.
And coffee only makes me think
of you, intent and leaning on a dirty
table at Denny’s. And here when the café
closes, we leave.
I've been swamped with homework. Graduate school is all about reading, giving presentations and writing papers apparently. It's much harder than my undergraduate days. But, I'm hanging in there. Right now I'm reading Small Island by Andrea Levy. A very good book about people from Jamaica who immigrate to England. There's more to it than that of coarse but that's the main idea.
Here's a new poem that hasn't been edited yet. Not sure where I'm going with this one but it's for Erin, you know who you are. Tell me what you do and don't like about it. Cheers. Sarah L.
Poem For A Friend
~For Erin
The clouds weave about the sky today.
An autumn wonder is 80 degrees
yet here in Virginia we find such a day.
I think of you miles away and realize
how days can stretch and I wonder at time.
I miss you friend. I wonder at birds
crossing your path and chicken legs
falling from the sky. This is absurd
but true. We work with line breaks
and I count syllables only to realize
this doesn’t make me a better poet.
And coffee only makes me think
of you, intent and leaning on a dirty
table at Denny’s. And here when the café
closes, we leave.
3 Comments:
EVEN IN THE ROUGH, GOOD FINISH
EVEN IN THE ROUGH, GOOD FINISH
Every cup of coffee reminds me of you, too, compadre.
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