four am: 288/365

Here’s a weird thing. I had to get up at 3:40 PST Monday am. I was in the taxi by 4:00. And on the way to the airport I wrote a poem.

I don’t write poems. Have only written four of my own free will until this one. I don’t mean only four good ones. I mean the poetic impulse has only descended upon me four times in my life until the taxi ride. It makes me wonder what I’m missing by not getting up in the middle of the night.

~

10676230_888066327884559_3498549890553000225_n - Version 2 365 true things about me

6 thoughts on “four am: 288/365

  1. So… where’s the poem? And… I enjoy writing poems. I have no idea if they’re any good, but I enjoy the different way language words in (my) poems. Good for you!

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  2. I’m not sure what impressed me more: that you got out the door in 20 minutes or that you could write poetry in a taxi. I’m not a poet either, but when the leaves turn or nature overwhelms me with her beauty, I find that poetry best captures my emotions. Simple prose is too prosaic.

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