She said I could not rewrite Dickinson,
that we need fly-up, soar-to-sky
rising-above-us guides. Wings.
She’s wrong. Hope requires muscle,
grit, I-will-do, flex of sinew
here. Present. Woke. Able.
Stargazing and skywriting
will not move the plow.
Push. Lift the heavy. Struggle.
Yes, this is probably true, even if I would prefer the opposite.
Thanks for sharing your thoughts, Virginia. Cheers, Guy.
Thanks, Tricia!
Thanks for your comment, Penelope. Cheers, Guy.
I love this poem. I hope I can live up to its inspiration.
Thanks for sharing your thoughts, Bob. Cheers, Guy.