Like a treasure found in a wayside book or a cheeky verse of serendipity, this one I came near close to missing before we all dispersed into the winds like dandelions spreading our poems.
It was the fluke of a suggestion at the end of a class, apropos of nothing we were doing there, a crash course in the attic of something more useful.
Decades later, we’re parsing and consuming snaps of the cerebral, emotional practicalities over pizza in Scarsdale.
We gush over words and their wordsmiths like two docents explicating from room to room at a Williamsburg of Writers that exists only in our heads,
but should exist, we know, on some New England gristmill with a rock wall and people reading Frost on each side of it, Mark Twain under the gazebo and Hemingway typing and howling at Fitzgerald upstairs.
We could pull it off, we could, like two verbose entrepreneurs with the giddiness of girlfriends who write their own epitaphs in lipstick.
These poems for NaPoWriMo were inspired by a poem I did years ago for my friend Michelle after hearing she passed away, 30 poems for inspiring women connected to me. The title now says "33 Women" because the poem to Michelle poem had already been written as well as two prologues I posted March 31.
See Ann here! http://www.marymccray.com/33-women.html#ann