Next Evening
The night before was spent at a poetry reading – We had
Spacious rooms, scoured wood floors and trim and
Gourmet chocolates – but the filling was too sweet.
The words were savory, multi-colored, bright, each speaker
Tossing surprises that we clasped contentedly to our laps.
Narratives, having been forged in the fire of memory, had
Annealed, been set aside, and now sat cool in our hands.
These were followed by meditations exhaled after steady,
Cleansing breaths of focused listening, study and walks
Through urban nature reserves, deep pockets of contemplation.
All thrilled the voice within me
Leaving a quivering string reverberating
Still twenty-four hours later so now I’m
Taking up what was only shared in past tense as
A challenge today and again today
I will write a poem
Saying yes to my desires and what I see
Putting down the clutter of to-do so I can be
April 24, 2011
Mary Biddle
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