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07/10/02 - Taking time to play ... a little word play, that is. Moving (A Pantoum) Moving on to a fresh beginning Packing up the old for new First month, last month, fat deposit Paying rent for another’s view Packing up the old for new Dumping clutter used and worn Paying rent for another’s view Opening up to changing norms Dumping clutter used and worn Parting ways from expectations Opening up to changing norms Change will bring new fascinations Parting ways from expectations First month, last month, fat deposit Change will bring new fascinations Moving on to a fresh beginning Cathy Hanlon - 07/02 I’ve been working on this poem for a few days now. I even brought it with me to the Pub the other night. I needed a change of venue to contemplate it, I thought. Actually, I just needed a break and a glass of wine. I bumped into a gentleman there. He was clutching what looked like a journal, a bound book. I did that, “What are you writing?” thing. You always take a chance when you ask that. Fortunately he was open to being open. He said he was trying to collect his thoughts and his journal is where he does that. I could identify with that. Then he went on to tell me why his thoughts needed collecting. Hey, I love the stories. A young looking lad was slightly following our conversation. He was also clutching a book. Yippee! I found someone who’s read most of the Tom Robbins books. Maybe I’m not so strange after all. This lad had a very unusual name, sort of intellectual. Mr. POV said it was a Yuppie name. He could be right. The lad was 29. Mr. POV was clutching something himself, a folder. I figured it was his manuscript, or part of it. He’s writing a novel. I swear I was at the Pub, but it seemed to have taken on a sort of coffee house aura. So that’s my literary entry for today. And the poem above shows that I’m still at the move. It’s not my choice, but it’s a focal part of my life right now. That’s OK, it’s not going to last forever. And ... there’s always those lovely breaks. |