Poetry en mass
Aug 26, 2017 · 1 min read
Why do we hold onto a memory and feeling and experience, once it disappears? What fear does to us is it creates, “Strange Bedfellows.” It holds us all up to the world and to those who hate to see the truth that it tells. We look at these shabby bits paper from some present that was given to you as long ago as a hundred years or as recent as an hour ago. We can find the poem, written without rhyme or reason on a summers day, years ago in the shade of an Oak, in a park. Trying hard to impress her with your words, without knowing why or how to pull that poem together, just like we didn’t know how to pull that relationship together, long ago, in that summer in the park.
