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Drought
by Traci MabatsI would write poetry
in high school
when it was assigned by our teacher
who liked poems about McDonald's
and got the Greek gods confused
but I never put much into it
After high school I became
friends with Joan
She had a black journal
she kept her dark poems in
Her words were like a jackhammer
jumping off the page
hitting my chest
knocking the air out of me
She was inspiration
for a while
for those awkward years
where I was still trying to figure myself out
After that there was a long
dry spell in my writing
Until we were in Grand Forks
and words came back to me
for a time
Now it seems forever since
I have had a good rain
To get things to grow
02/23/2009 Author's Note: Joan-if she were to write a poem
about cutting of your hand
and you had cut off your hand
you would not have known what
the pain truly felt like
until you read her words
Posted on 02/24/2009
Copyright © 2024 Traci Mabats
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 02/24/09 at 02:52 AM It's always weird going back to that stuff. It usually has a nice surreal quality going for it. Nice story. |
| Posted by A. Paige White on 02/24/09 at 02:35 PM I guess that's what we all yearn for, is to write like Joan does, to truly express our perceptions with a talent that can take simple lines and create deeper dimensions of living. Project a little, get out your umbrella!
Even if you don't get to use it, you could at least whack somebody that annoys you...
;-D
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