It’s my own fault for trying to keep working (real estate contract and listing today), take classes (finishing a short one and starting a longer one which will overlap 6 weeks into a 14 week class) and then expecting at almost 8pm (not exactly my time to be wildly productive) to write the day’s poem.  Rummaged around a new book, Blue Arabesque, by Patricia Hampl that just came in (I just discovered her and I think I like her writing but I’m all over the place right now with reading and having a smattering of problem keeping them all straight – I think I have about 10 books going) and then in Natalie Goldberg’s The True Secret of Writing.  Natalie is about nothing if she isn’t about writing what’s right in front of you and THAT is where today’s offering came from.  I hesitate to deem it a poem but it’s a good try.  Onward!  The home stretch can be a hard slog!

Today

Nothing matters but pen to paper and
the flow of stories, not
as facile as I would wish, but
a great excuse to eat trail mix and drink
cherry wine.  I’d put Pearl Jam on if I
could decode my IPOD or find a disc slot
on the new computer.  Two classes and
real estate contracts have stolen daylight’s
creativity – I am left with a white and black cup
of cold tea set next to an empty stemmed glass
and a white page full of silence.