It's Poetry Friday. Let's go into our weekend prepared "to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life". Every Friday post a poem- yours or someone else's.
Here's a little one I wrote today...which isn't really the poem swirling around in my brain, but maybe a sort of warm up exercise for what is coming....hopefully.
Dickens for the winter,
wrapped in thickness and safety and warmth.
Spring for things never read,
full of discovery and newness and expansion.
Hemingway for the first hot days,
clear and quick and a drink in hand.
Summer for Tennessee Williams and Southern writers,
ambling and languid and brutal.
Scholarly works and realism fill Fall,
cold and inside and impersonal.