Sunday, February 5
GIRL FRIEND POEM #3
She was white and flown
as a kleenex turning into a swan.
I lifted her veil; the face disappeared.
As if I had exposed some film
to sun. Twirling our skirts.
Laughing until the clouds sopped up
the light. And the peaches fell down around us.
for Sharon
(C. D. Wright)
After I read the first two remarkable lines, I turned away to see who wrote this poem. And of course, it was C.D. Wright. I went on to read the rest of this poem, took a breath, then mused, this is art, and to label it a poem just doesn't seem to give it justice, to make it bigger and more important for the world to see. But too few are reading to "see." I did, though. I read it. And so did you Robin. Thanks.
“While fishing, we throw them back until one early morning we set our hook and pull up a whopper. Now that's what they call a keeper. No supper for this one. No sir. Gonna stuff and mount this on the wall and admire at the thing to know that while I had no part in creating such a thing, I can sure admire it until the day I die.” Said someone long forgotten who left this note on the wall right beneath the whopper.