September a month when life is intended to resume
school starts summer ends when days
are different days and yet here we are still not knowing
if today is Wednesday or Thursday still not knowing
what will happen about schools and Covid and this
endless election knowing only that today,
already the 3rd day of September so beautiful it is
possible to pretend the rest doesn’t matter for now.
Like this:
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Let me tell you why I'm here, and why I hope you'll join me.
I am here to poem, to play with words, to tell stories when I can, and to ask you for yours. Words are what I love, how I see, and what I say. Words are how I know my life, and how I find my friends. I'm here to ask you to join me. Right here. To send me your stories, and your poems. And to read mine when you can.
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“The 3rd day of September so beautiful it is possible to pretend the rest doesn’t matter for now.” I mostly feel like I walk with one foot in each world — one that is eternally beautiful and possible, the other where everything is fleeting and veiled. It’s easy to lose my balance . . .
Love you and your poems, dear Esther.
xxxxxxx
I always enjoy your emails. Poetry stimulates.
xxxxxxxxx
As promised in poetry class today, good poem:
Dedications by Adrienne Rich
“I know you are reading this poem…..”
thanks for this jean