Today's poem is one I wrote about 9 years ago. As I re-read my journals from years ago, I am encouraged and frightened. Encouraged, because I think that what I wrote wasn't terrible, and frightened because I'm afraid I've "lost" it. I believe--at least I like to believe--that many writers feel this way. That I've already written my best stuff, that there's not much left in me to write, etc.
So the key is--wait for it--to keep writing! Whether it's crummy or good, boring or engrossing, just keep at it. First drafts usually stink. Or better put, first drafts may have good potential or have a glimmer or something good in them, but really aren't the best a writer can create. Revision is always the key.
But in my experiment this month, I'm boldly and nervously putting out some rougher drafts to stick with my challenge of every-day-poetry-writing. With that introduction, here is "Forest Fears."
Hansel and Gretel: lost and alone,
Little Red Riding Hood: met by a rude wolf,
Snow White: escaped an evil queen,
So it's no wonder when
forest shadows creep closer,
and day fades fast,
my feet walk faster,
my heart pounds,
my stomach quivers.
But when I am safe at home,
cozy, under blankets,
I remember that
Hansel and Gretel: found their good father.
Red Riding Hood: outsmarted the wolf.
Snow White: won her prince.
And Goldilocks: learned to stick close to home.