My newest adventure is underway. It has lead me to take up residency in a new blog,
Like the Feathers of an Arrow (affectionately known as LFA).

...don't open...don't throw away... is not disappearing completely (not yet),
but postings here will be limited.

Sunday, January 27, 2013

2 Time Capsule: I saw your picture on a carton of milk

Title:  I saw your picture on a carton of milk
Date:  03/28/01
Setting:  Life after college--during first post-college job
Form:  Free verse
Your eyes tell a story
of a small girl with little worries
who swings peacefully along the playground
with her mother close at hand. 
The playground swing, now stands empty
as a mother’s gaze turns away
what joy and happiness once belonged here
has been taken without a trace. 
Your smile tells a tale
of a small girl’s love and passion
who dressed up in princess clothes
to parade before the king, her father. 
The clothes lay now, tucked away in drawers
as a father’s brow turns inward
what laughter and love once belonged here
has been torn from its proper place. 
Your picture tells a story
of a small girl who once belonged
about the playground and in princess clothes
a small girl taken from her home.

Notes:  The line, "I saw your picture on a carton of milk," was written after watching a lifetime movie about a girl who had seen her own image staring back at her on a carton of milk.  Over the years, even now, I have found the most trying part of writing a poem is unearthing the title. I would say that 90% of my poems found there title after completion and 9% have found it somewhere in the midst of writing it.  Very few of my poems have started off with an intended title.  This poem was the first time I had ever written a title prior to the poem.  In fact, the line was written two days prior to the poem.  Since then I have probably written a poem or two with the title already in my head.

Artifact I:  The page were I first wrote down the line that would become the title of this poem.



Artifact II:  The original write of this poem which shows the order the stanzas were written in and the numbers that reassign them.