Writing On Fridays

Writing On Fridays

We met in RedClay Writing Your Memoirs workshop

began meeting on Fridays.

Writing Down the Bones

We process our lives,

 relishing tomato-goat-cheese-scallions soup,

a Prosciutto salad,

 time together.

She read a Robert Frost poem 

The Exposed Nest.

This led to a myriad of comments

as romantics, as Mothers, as nest builders.

I told my tale of being too near a nest

in the plum tree and being whomped in the head

this week by a Mother Brown Thrasher.

Such a protective instinctive force.

Stunned me.

We picked six words from the Robert Frost book

to write about:

quest, scorns, ripeness,relation, misty, human.

(We don’t have to use all the words.)

I wrote:

Who is it that scorns thorns

hacking his way on his quest?

Misty thoughts

patiently waiting

turn into ripeness.

The thorny bushes part

the mystery revealed.

---

She wrote:

Such a quest

scorns truth

seeks misty illusions

a ripeness merely soft

human tendrils

set among the shade of trees

imagining another green.

---

This is why we write on Fridays.

---

stay tuned . . .

---