Poverty with a View.

The Cascade Mountains in the distance,
God's horizon,
Nature's art.

My future,
My past.

It bears down on my shoulders,
my head dreams of the clouded peaks,
My body is frozen in dirt.

The horizon to which I strive,
the heavy weight holds me back.



I was at writer's group last night, and someone read a poem, and I mentioned maybe I'd give it a try.

They all seemed surprised.

But I wrote lots of love poetry when I met Linda, and had been dabbling in it before. Not that I know what I'm doing.

But as I said, I love word play and what is poetry but word play?

Anyway, I took their surprise as a challenge. I'm going to try to write a poem a day, ain't saying they will be any good. I'll probably transfer them over to my writing blog after a week or so, but I'll start here.


I'd already written the beginnings of the last two poems by the time all the writers had left the Bookmark. So there.