It’s not huge, but it’s a start. Matt and I got back on our writing schedule, and tonight hailed the first exchange of poems. For the month of September, we’re keeping the requirements to five lines total. Next month, we bump it up to nine lines.
Earlier tonight, I was frustrated with the prospect of having to write a poem. I was still at work, tired, hungry, unfocused. The idea of writing was another task to complete in what seemed like an already big list of tasks to complete. I dreaded it.
But… after getting Matt’s poem, and trying to go off of his "voice," I found myself writing a phrase or two, and working through a few lines. The more I did, the less it seemed like work. The process went from cumbersome to enjoyable rather quickly, and I was reminded once more of why I liked writing so much to begin with.
The poem isn’t great, but it’s a start. More accurately, it’s a start again after a long absence. I like it not because I think it’s a good poem, but because I like what it signifies. I like what it heralds. And for that, I think I want to share it.
