Poet Elizabeth Barrett Browning (1806-1861)

The third day of poem-writing looms.

I wonder what’s the purpose is of poetry.

True: I am a writer; but not a poet.

I don’t know the theories or the patterns or the literature.

So I’m stuck with one notion only: that poems should express your feelings.

After listening to Luci Tapahonso read her poetry in Navajo country, I realized that she was telling stories.

Something we all do.

I will endeavor to tell stories in wee packages.

Here is Day Three’s entry:

Dessert

Chocolate, vanilla and caramel:

Tucked in cartons.

Frozen treats

We split each evening

Spoonful by spoonful.

I leave town

For a few days.

(Business)

And return to find

One lonely container.

And vanilla at that.

Sigh.

At least there’s something left.

Sigh.

A tablespoon at best.

Sigh.

And I share

After all.