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Monday, April 15, 2013

NaPoWriMo Day 12 Malaise Hits

Day 12 we are challenged to write a list of things we would never say, to a person or non-person of our choice.  I play with words to no avail.  In an echo of a childhood memory, my mother's voice still counsels: never put down on paper something you don't want someone else to read.  I know she meant well, and she spoke from experience.  But for an intercepted note in her high school days, I may not have made it to this page.  But I have made her dictum my own, along with the inhibition implicit in it, though it would serve me better in everyday conversation than in 'the writing life.'  Two days later, I hear a great 'first liner' as I come
out of church, and now, three days later I think I can use that for this assignment:

Dear God,
Don't you think winter is getting a little old?
Like, it's spring, April fifteenth
                                  and I still feed cold!
You promised showers, rainbows, and even some
flowers, melting snow, sunshine, winsome hours.
Why are you doing this to us, day after day?
What have we done wrong, that you treat us this way?
You tease us with little thaws, water in gutters
running down to the corner drain, where it mutters,
or suddenly freezing, curbside, in layers
that laugh at my innocence when I would break them
with my prayers.  How much more of this, Lord, how long?
                                               ---Shirley Smith Franklin

1 comment:

  1. Love the poem, and love that you're back in this thing!