Here in Wisconsin, we’ve got cold. It’s a good time to buckle down and write. I’m plowing ahead on the seventh book of eight in my Poet’s Workshop series, and somehow I lost a poem I wrote for a chapter on riddle poems. Here’s my thought for today.
The Perfect Poem
Once I wrote a perfect poem.
If only I could find it!
I searched inside my messy desk,
on top, beneath, behind it.
I poked through every pocket
and each notebook I could see.
I think it was a perfect poem.
This really bothers me.
Once I wrote a perfect poem.
I’m not sure what it said.
So now I have to wonder:
Was it only in my head?
JoAnn Early Macken
Today's Poetry Friday Roundup is at Tabatha Yeatts: The Opposite of Indifference. Enjoy!