Ekphrasis on the poet

The poet
Having performed her words
Settled into a chair
To be seen

To give her view on writing.
She reads manuscripts
Has been published in the New York Times.

O to bear witness to her gesticulations!

She was to teach us how to write
How to circle the unknowable and
battle the silence in white.

I learned that maybe I
misunderstood it all. How to
break a line or catch
a thought.

“I’m falling behind.”
You said as we walked to our vehicles
And we both agreed
We weren’t sure which race we were losing
Or had even begun.

But she made us feel that way.
She boasted about tossing out manuscripts
Entire dreams in
Trash bins for the misuse of a word
or ending a line in some way unacceptable.

She told a story of her mother
And we felt her vulnerability,
She is not without talent.
She told us of a marble statue, of a picture
And the poem she had written about it all.
Connections made in her Electric mind.
She talked about being
published in the New York Times
A poem about her mother,
in her own words

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