Ahead and Behind

(Yes, that's me ... caught in the daily whirl of activity)

I suppose it was there all the time ... an ability, on occasion, to say something that sort of had the sound of poetry ... something that, while alien, perhaps, to the formal, prescribed structure and style of real poetry, had an element that conjured up poetic images for the reader ... or listener.

I began writing these things for myself. 


They usually came to me during my daily walks. When I got back home, I would sit for a few minutes at the kitchen table, scribbling away.

Then I began sharing these scribblings with Phyllis. She liked them ... at least said she did ... and encouraged me to keep writing.

I did keep writing, and writing, and writing ... and, though today's poem is a bit of an exaggeration ... poetic license, you know ... it does sometimes seem that I've gotten ahead on my writing ... behind on everything else.

Meanwhile, the poem:

AHEAD AND BEHIND

For many years
I wouldn’t venture
into this strange
realm of poetry,
but then, like
a water-loving dog
finding a pond,
I plunged in, 
can’t be coaxed
back out, and I’m
paddling around,
getting slowly
ahead on poetry,
way behind on
everything else.
© 2001 

(originally published in Capper's)

Today's word: paddling