It is what it is.

Poetry can be difficult to sell. I understand that. It took me years to realize I not only love reading it, I love writing it. And when I buy a book of poetry, it’s most likely going to be a book of classics. Old favorites like Robert Frost and Emily Dickinson. Although there are still some living poets who can tempt me to read their work.

These are the poets who are famous in their own lifetime. I’ve read their work, and it’s terribly good, enough to make me feel inadequate in a truly awful way I don’t feel when I read my old favorites. I think that’s because my old favorites are legends and my new favorites will be legends. Seeing that happen is like witnessing something being born. Messy. Beautiful. Frightening.

I read my poetry and I know I’m not there. Maybe someday though. Until then, it is what it is.

You’re wearing the white dress you could never afford until you thought you were too old, with lacy sleeves and frills and pink ribbons.

From Mama’s Daffodils by Michelle Garren-Flye

Photo by Michelle Garren-Flye Copyright 2023