Monday, October 28, 2013

How do Fuyu persimmons make me want to write a poem?

Because persimmons make me smile.  Because paper & pen make me smile.  Besides, when I thought I'd said everything I possibly could about persimmons, a new way to say the old surfaces. The same is true with cooking.  Thus, the same is true in poetry.  Everything is plural with joy.
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1 comment:

  1. Susan E. GangelOctober 30, 2013 at 1:23 PM

    H/c

    As if summoned by a force outside her force
    She wondered on a parallel route
    If the existence of seasons was a manmade construct
    Devised to excuse the farmer and his wife of menus

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