I was tapping my fingers, reading. She
sure can write, that girl! Me,
I have to say a thing or two to put distance between
the opening part,
and what I really secretly mean. But
she just puts it in: right open,
up front, and all through
- you keep tripping
gaily over jam packed gems
and the good stuff. Jack
Horner would have been like, "This pie's
all plums!"
There is so much that works in this poem that I really don't know what to say about it. I just felt it deserved a comment.
ReplyDeleteThanks!
ReplyDeleteWhat a heartbreaking thing. I can't recall whose writing this is about. Why didn't I put it in the title?
Also, I've gotten better at secretly meaning nothing. Or openly meaning secrets? Or just not having any. If in fact that was even a problem at that date! I suspect it wasn't, and that I was just gunning for contrast for the sake of the poem.