WHEN I READ THE POEMS OF OTHERS 5-23-17

WHEN I READ THE POEMS OF OTHERS   5-23-17

When I read a poem

by William Stafford, about a wagon

track or wolf or gust

of wind, or lines by Billy

Collins about a lazy daughter

or a lanyard or a gust

of wind, or stanzas by Shelly

about a long-lost statue

in the sand, brushed by a gust

of wind, all I can think

to write is about a lanyard-

wearing wolf walking on a statue

in the sand, and a gust

of wind.

JRMcF

johnrobertmcfarland@gmail.com

[No, I’m not writing again. I’m still fasting from being a professional Christian, trying to be a real Christian. But I start most days with a poem—unedited, just the way it comes off the top of my head--just because I want to, and because I need to write. You don’t need to read it, though, and I have told no one that I am posting in CIW again, so if you have stumbled in here by mistake, and think there will be something worthwhile to read, I apologize. JRMcF]