We stopped for ice cream on our drive down the mountain. I wasn't really hungry for it, but wanted to delay our reentry into Charlotte. The scoop of peanut butter fudge swirl over a gooey brownie was a shock to my system after two days hunkered down in the mountains thinking only of words.
It was my first writing retreat and it will most certainly be the first of many more. I was challenged in ways I haven't been in a very long time - if ever. I'm inspired to work harder at my creative side on the paper. If we're lucky, it'll pay off for you here in my blog.
For now one of my first endeavors at a poem since the sixth grade assignment where I a sappy rhyme about seagulls. Poetry terrifies me. Thanks to this weekend, I think maybe I'm getting over that. Be gentle in your critique.
Facing the final hours of my writing retreat
The sand is getting into my nose,
Little grits working between
My pursed lips.
I’m not ready to pull my head out
Where life can ruffle the feathers
On my face.
1 comment:
I think you are funny AND I like your poem!
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