When making a list of goals for February, I decided that will do the following:
- Edit two of my poems a day
- Continue to compile a PDF to Print File
- Blog Daily reaching for 50 views per day
- Submit to one publication by deadline
- Search for an editor
- Start reading the book Writing the Poetic Life by Sage Coen
Besides blogging, yesterday I researched self-publishing. It took several hours of my day. I took notes. I ran numbers. I printed guidebooks for PDF’s and book creation. I also did some cleaning out of my office.
In between those tasks, I wrote one poem and cleaned up another. Here they are:
The Return
Damn Insomnia!
Why have you returned?
Months ago you left me.
After
You were gone,
I was more rested and
Clearer headed.
Now,
I drag myself
Out of bed in the
Morning.
After,
Walking the halls
For two hours with you
At
Night.
What have I done to cause
Your return?
Aging Hair turning white, My mother’s hand comes out of my sleeve. Age spots here, and painful knees there. But, I am still young! Am I not?
Can you relate to either of these poems today? If so, tell me why in the comments!
Today is Poetry Friday. Our host is Jan at Book Seed Studio. Thank you, Jan, for hosting today. For more great poetry, check out Jan’s site that will have links to everyone participating in this week’s Poetry Friday! Thanks!
The Apples in My Orchard 
I definitely relate. I also see my mother’s hand from my sleeve and her face in the mirror. But in important ways I don’t feel old, at least not in my thinking. I cut my own hair since the pandemic and I can’t say that’s helping my self image.;)
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Janice, thanks for visiting my blog again. I can relate to what you’ve observed about your own aging as well. I have let my hair go grey since the pandemic, but still have it cut (once the salon’s were allowed to open). My stylist owns her salon and only has one person at a time, and we are masked for the entirety. Hair is a strange thing! It can make you feel great or very much have the opposite effect! There was a period when I cut my boys hair when they were small (about 1.5 years) and finally, I stopped doing it because I didn’t enjoy it and definitely was not doing a good job! I know I am crabby when my hair is not “quite right!”
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Hi Carol & appreciations for reminding us about To Do Lists and also ~~ ta, dah! The Doing. I would say you are getting everything officewise done & also creating with poetic aplomb. May we all be as young-acting & forward-going!
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Jan, Thank you. Even during this past, last week of January I’ve been working on that list as I alluded to in my post. Tomorrow, it starts in earnest and I look forward to the progress I should make! Thanks, again for hosting!
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I can relate to your second poem. Not only do my mother’s hands appear, but her words come out of my mouth. Does anyone else catch a glance of yourself in the mirror and wonder who is that?
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Ah, yes! Words coming out of my mouth that are my mother’s. I have experienced that as well. When I look in the mirror, I see a good combination of both of my parents, since my coloring (dark hair) is more like my dad’s.
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Yes, I’ve long seen my mother’s hands & that’s okay. She lived many years, so my expectation is the same! I love the voice talking to insomnia, that questioning. Sometimes I think it’s the change in scenery that remains so much the same, the same during this crazy time. Best wishes in your goals!
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After I wrote the poem, I felt it was somewhat cliche’ but I do see my mom’s hands. Insomnia is also a probelm I inherited from my mom. I have written several pieces where I talk to it about it’s visits. Maybe, it’s some kind of odd catharsis! Thanks for your comments!
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