Trying to renew my writing life this week through my class at Millersville, so I am dusting the cobwebs off of this blog, taking a risk, and posting to Slice of Life.
This poem was inspired by Ralph Fletcher's "Good Old Days" Sometimes I remember the frantic first years, three little towheads fresh from their baths lined up on the couch, buddies clutched in hands, eyes glued to Elmo's World as I move around the cramped living room, complaining about the clutter. I tuck Thomas trains in bins and baby dolls in carriages straightening the mess of a summer day of play. Now, my living room is spotless, no legos to step on or fingerprints to wipe. But, I can't imagine why I ever wished for this.
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Remember -- we are free to write the worst junk in America, as long as we keep looking for ways to make it less junky :) Archives
June 2018
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