This week my poetry class and I are working on haiku. I wrote this one as an experiment:
Persimmons. Only
enough to remember you:
famished until now.
Persimmons. Only
enough to remember you:
famished until now.
We walk to the rim after breakfast. A handful of us, me the only kid, gather in morning sunlight that takes its sweet time slanting through the juniper branches. The appointed pastor never comes, so a retired minister on vacation takes charge. I sit on the flattest rock I can find, but I constantly shift my skinny body. I draw in the dirt with a small stick. I bow my head and close my eyes when asked and say amen.
I open my eyes and watch the sun flick a switch, turning on the lights inside rocks that used to rest on the bottom of an ocean.
The Bereshit Bara Creativity Series asks 13 Creatives to wrestle with how they make the first move, write the first word, fling the first brush stroke, peel back the first layer of clay? What inspires them, what moves them, what drives them? I’d also like to hear from YOU. Send me your thoughts or a link to your post wrestling with these questions at rossgale4@gmail.com.
If you comment on today’s post you will be entered into a drawing to win David’s book Rookie Dad: Thoughts on First-Time Fatherhood. I’ll announce the winner over the weekend.
Creativity Series: David Jacobsen “Every Damned Tangle and Knot”
For sale: baby shoes, never worn.
Three brothers. Two hugs. One silent goodbye.