why untitled, unwritten?

I once labeled everything before it was written, until I found it kept too many words away. Now I am leaving the unwritten untitled, until it grows into a name.

Friday, May 4, 2012

No. 24

Friday is here, and I am glad.  Sometimes I do wish it would stay awhile longer than twenty-four little hours, especially a Friday in May when the world around here is so colorful and bright.  Spring always reminds me of poetry, with the way both are brief and yet packed with significance, and I'd like to start sharing a poem with you every Friday.  

This poem is by Wendy Videlock, a writer I don't know well but found through The Poetry Foundation.  It was originally published in Poetry earlier this year.  I hope you enjoy it!


for my mother

They are fleeting.
They are fragile.
They require

little water.
They’ll surprise you.
They’ll remind you

that they aren’t
and they are you.

Image: DIY welcome mat by Kinsey Mhire

1 comment:

annekata said...

I love poetry and think that poetry is the most difficult thing to write. Yesterday I went to an art event and it was all about words...fiction, hand-made books, movie makers, small publishers and printers. And I discovered a poet I like who is local. It was a good day. The poem you posted is beautiful.
Have a lovely weekend!
PS I really don't comment here often enough.