I spent much of April writing and thinking “poetry.” Each and every morning, I worked on one or two poems, and sometimes added my voice as a podcast. I believe I wrote more than 50 poems in April, collecting most in a Google Doc for a later look. Some, I know I know I need to add to the Google Doc so that I don’t lose them forever (although, I don’t always mind that either — the scattering of poetic lines to the wind). Many of the poems are not worth saving, but there are a few gems in there, I think.
So it is an odd feeling now to not be writing poems yesterday and today, now that we are in May. Oh, I know I can still be writing them (and I will) but the breather and the break is helpful, too. Poetry is more than April, after all. Still, it’s funny how you get into a rhythm of things, a rhythm of writing, and then when you stop or break up the momentum, things feel … different. As if I am a different writer looking at the world from a slighter different angle than when I was writing poems every day. I had that same experience in the aftermath of the Slice of Life writing, where I spent my days eying so many little moments that when March ended, I had withdrawal.
Just an observation …
Peace (in the poems still be written),