Life With Horace

poetry & essays

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Formerly dear Molly

So it began
another opening salvo
written grapeshot,
sibling letters
masking fury longhand
weighted by a lifetime’s
alkaline asides,
presupposing mal intent
in every word,
an older generation
hamstrung by
paper clad

Day 16 of NaPoWriMo, where the prompt was an almanac poem, one of the items being a scrap of a letter. clearing out my family’s place in Rhode Island (emptying a place filling my soul) we found hundred of letters, one of which began “Molly, formerly dear Molly”. While I found this amusing, clearly the writer, and one supposes the recipient, did not.

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Thanks at a remove

Dear poet sir,
where to begin,
your words press tightly
side by side,
to pull me through
the shiny skin of thought,
a mirrored surface of
another’s world.
Words of early years
and soldiers gone to fight
a hellish, fruitless war.
Survival and regrowth,
sharp perceptions of
time’s road.
A place so different
from your youth
yet you can laugh, then
fete with knife edged pen
and dazzling words
the mix and contradictions
of accumulated life, that leave
my inward turning eye
and mind replete
at least for now.
Until another clutch
of welded thought
brings me full awake
and ravenous
for more

NaPoWriMo day 3, in which the prompt was to write a poem as fan letter to a celebrity, unrestricted as to time and gender. Disliking the idea of kowtowing to mere celebrity (as opposed to creative talent), I chose to write to a (celebrated) poet whose work I admire.