Some years ago I had the idea that every single day I’d write a poem about someone I’d seen that day. Maybe in the form of a letter. I'd wanted to do this same thing with pictures once. There was a time (I have been in my apartment for years and years and years) when we had so many people sleeping on the couch or the floor (no blow up mattresses then) and I’m sorry not to have a wall of their pictures. A You Slept Here wall. Yesterday I saw one of my favorite people ever. An 89 year old writer named Kay. We met a while ago at Manhattanville College. She took my Good Story class. We have talked on Wednesday mornings ever since. I thought about that Wall (one of the thousand things I never did) and the poem idea and thought at least I could write a poem even just one about a person.
Dear Kay
Dear Kay
Dear Kay
Some years ago I had the idea that every single day I’d write a poem about someone I’d seen that day. Maybe in the form of a letter. I'd wanted to do this same thing with pictures once. There was a time (I have been in my apartment for years and years and years) when we had so many people sleeping on the couch or the floor (no blow up mattresses then) and I’m sorry not to have a wall of their pictures. A You Slept Here wall. Yesterday I saw one of my favorite people ever. An 89 year old writer named Kay. We met a while ago at Manhattanville College. She took my Good Story class. We have talked on Wednesday mornings ever since. I thought about that Wall (one of the thousand things I never did) and the poem idea and thought at least I could write a poem even just one about a person.