Poet Jane Hirshfield said "... the feeling I have about poem-writing (is) that it is always an exploration, of discovering something I didn't already know. Who I am shifts from moment to moment, year to year. What I can perceive does as well. A new poem peers into mystery, into whatever lies just beyond the edge of knowable ground."
I bring a different poem to the writing classes each week, not only to inspire but to introduce new poets to the group members.
Arriving Home by Jill Hinners
Along this cobble-stoned path a skin of ice tries to steal my step as iris leaves, parched but not yet snowbound, whisper and rattle in judgment from their frozen bed. Some say a ghost lives in this house, a wife still waiting by the window for the evening train. How many years ago did her husband ride the rails each day, whistling, swinging his lunch pail (so light, so empty, on his return) until the day of no return, no whistle save the train’s? Some say the draft that tonight in the dining room licks my cheek like a plume of cold breath is her spirit. I am a skeptic but like the story, prefer it to the diagnosis “insufficient insulation.” Outside, the irises dance: undone beauties condemned to watch the living carry on living. Inside, I turn to you without words, the two of us becalmed amidst this restlessness of leaves, a widow’s rustling skirts. ~ from The Heart of All That Is: Reflections on Home (Holy Cow Press, 2013)