Whereas last week I felt I wrote several good poems, this week I feel like none have reached quite that level, though I do keep trying every day. February also seems to be whizzing by and there’s more stuff going on in general. Like today I am expecting my mum for a visit from Norway, and I’m very excited, so I’m not going to write much more now as I can’t focus and I have some preparing to do still.

I will leave you with two poems from this week, the first again being a haiku I composed in the woods.

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“Do not disturb” are
most sacred words in this age
of connectedness

Poem #46: We weren’t on teams

We roamed the small-town streets restlessly
Taking turns buying cigarettes from that one place
that would sometimes disregard our age
Answering ringing pay phones
to be met with heavy breathing
Meeting boys who were actually
men
and sometimes
drunk or high
to feel like the cool ones
the brave ones
mature
in a place where nothing happened
if you were 16 years old

We played instruments and wrote poetry
starved ourselves and pretended
we didn’t care,
that we were proud even
to be loners
who didn’t do homework
or play sports
or have a well-adjusted family life
a childhood home

We were the wayward birds
who could always feel the chill of the wind
the call of some other life
who would soon move on
to other nesting grounds
but for a brief, intense moment
saw ourselves mirrored in
someone who was just as lost
and could breathe in that temporary recognition