Late Bloomer
Another Friday Writing Date.
Sharing our weekly joys and concerns.
She helps edit a poem I’ve written.
The House in Black & White.
It’s much better, now.
The new book title is
Late Bloomer
this is my b & w photo for the cover.
She reads from a book of poems by Maya Angelou,
so powerful.
We have both read I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings
leading to a discussion of how reading it
changed our lives,
like a tumbler in a secret lock falling quietly,
but heavily and surely into place,
and each of us
in our separate worlds then,
would never be the same.
We each picked three words from
Maya Angelou’s book for our writing exercise.
wonder, flash, bump, exposure, distant, inspiration
She wrote:
bump me
hear me
see me
no distant inspiration
no over exposure
simply the flash of storm
that anger reveals
I wrote:
She bumped into a young man
raising an umbrella
in a flash flood.
Their eyes met,
his noting wonder,
hers staying distant,
his needing inspiration,
hers feeling exposure.
---
She said, “You always write a story.”
I said, “We both wrote from our unconscious.”
stay tuned . . .
~ ~ ~
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