First off, Happy Easter. I rose early, went to Mass, ate a big Brunch, and my 12 year old son is making Boeuf Bourguinon (a la Julia Child - love her) for dinner. I am a blessed girl.
But, even better than that - today I had my first experience in which I saw my name above something I wrote IN PRINT!!
Okay, so it was only the local paper, but it's still a big deal to me. I'm starting out small so as not to overwhelm the competition. Heh heh.
I'll post the poem below with a warning that it is not a nice, happy piece. It's rather dark and especially dark for me as this is unlike my usual style. But - somebody liked it enough to use ink! That just slays me. I don't usually write free verse either, but hey, whatever works. Enjoy.
(PS - I just realized, looking at the date, that it is my mother's birthday and the day Martin Luther King, Jr. was assassinated. You may think it's strange that I just now remembered her birthday, but she died in 1967, so I think I'm doing pretty good, never having celebrated it all these years.) Happy Birthday, Mama and Requiescat in Pacem, Dr. King.
On Her Way To Zero
sounds of the city
skyscraper canyon walls
like black freckles
on the face of a distant dome
too far away to see wings flap
or hear the caws
With an eagle eye
she notes the time on the clock
two stories down
A note tucked in the bodice
of her yellow-flowered summer dress
His careless words
left lying on the clean-swept floor
Her descent is as calm as
stepping off her mother's porch
No frantic hands
no fierce grabs at air that
will not save her
on her way to zero