I Can't Write a Poem Today

Hello from the new space, Dear Ones! I am glad you’re here. Take your time to look around and get comfy with it. I will be making updates and improvements as time goes on.

Today’s draft comes from day 10 of The Stafford Challenge, when I thought I just had no more poems in me.

I can’t write a poem today.

My poems come like feral cats.

They need time, and silence,

bowls of snacks,

fresh water in a protected corner

before they emerge from the woods.

I can’t write a poem today.

I have drowned myself in metaphor.

I am currently sinking

body bent, arms floating

hair wrapped around my face.

I will hit bottom with my left hip first,

curl into a ball and wait

while someone drains the images.

I can’t write a poem today.

I have just realized all the comforts

given and received with my writing hand.

I am memorizing the lines of my palms

paralyzed in gratitude.