I’m proud of my friends who actually get their poems published, even whole books of poetry published. Pride is a funny thing to feel since it suggests some sort of ownership, like I had anything to do with their success. I didn’t, of course. I just marveled in how awesome they were and tried to come up with something constructive to say during workshop. But it’s nice to know that other people are seeing their skill. And I get to pick their brains sometimes for my own poetry.

I’m not sure I’ve ever come back to a poem and not wanted to shift a line break or alter a word. And yet, there comes a point where you have to put it out into the world for feedback. I appreciate criticism. It’s great to know people whose work I trust, to get their response.

Since it’s World Poetry Day, I figured I should share one of my own pieces. Add a few bits to the collective.

Mapped

Have I circumscribed my life,

mapped my edges, set the limits

of what I will be? Am I now

no uncharted territory,

no manifest destiny moving me

towards unseen horizons?

 

I want the compass rose and empty spaces

Lands of doubtful dimensions and fantastical beasts

at the edges of the world.

 

Here there be dragons.