I do not write poetry
because
Great dead men on my shelves
have done it

I must be busy with
something that's mine.

I do not write poetry
because
Birds by the millions fly
north to their own preachers

I must fly to my own east.

I do not write poetry
because
The sun dances in the sky
on a flower-filled day

I must be there to watch it.

I do not write poetry
because
Though the dogs in the yard
Have not bathed for ages

They ask for a hug
and I must give it.

I do not write poetry
because
The wounds of my past
fester now and then

I must be there to bind them.

I do not write poetry
because
The father of my children
is the best cook in the world

I must be there to love him.

I do not write poetry
because
The child wants boots
to scale his own mountain

I must be there to free him.

I do not write poety
at all--
because I live it.