I am not comfortable writing poetry. Perhaps the fact that I’m posting this at nearly midnight (my time) on a Friday is proof. Yes, I write lyrics, but the music seems to tell me what needs sayin’. When I first started learning to play guitar, Big D said I pressed the strings like a piano player. I wonder if I write poetry like a songwriter – pressing pen to paper like a song is forming.
If you don’t like this, you can blame these poets for inspiring and darn-near encouraging me to give it a try. If you like this, you can still blame them. But whatever you do, be sure and check out their blogs. They actually know what they’re doing.
The First Hike of Spring
Broken branches and brittle bones
Cataractic vision and blazing lungs
We descended quick
“Leave ‘em there.”
“Not our care.”
That’s how it came to be that you and I
The first hike of spring.
– Anita, Noted in Nashville