Napowrimo day two suggests a poem based on a non-graeco-roman myth. Fascinated by my ancestral Kalevala, I am drawn to the story of  the Salmon Maiden who refuses and flees the 'honor' of an arranged marriage to the ancient bard of her people.  My writing that emerges is a  searching effort to understand her wisdom and action as she plunges into the ocean, becoming the mythic salmon, "a friend to all."  I cheer her escape, yet her suicide is so harsh.

My poem ends on the unfinished note of questioning...and soon disappears into the shuffle of tax and financial papers flooding my dining room table at this time of year, the disappearance as unnerving as the story itself..

Alas, the maiden and this particular poem shall remain inscrutable. Perhaps it will emerge again, amplified and explained, as many of my poetic beginnings do. (There being an even greater array of possibilities cast upon the desk, sorting drawers, window counters, and files of the study..) I shall try again tomorrow.