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.

Laundry by George Bilgere

 My mother stands in this black
 And white arrangement of shadows
 In the sunny backyard of her marriage,
 Struggling to pin the white ghosts
 Of her family on the line.
 I watch from my blanket on the grass
 As my mother's blouses lift and billow,
 Bursting with the day. 
 My father's white work shirts
 Wave their empty sleeves at me, 
 And my own little shirts and pants
 Flap and exult like flags
 In the immaculate light.

 It is mid-century, and the future lies
 Just beyond the white borders 
 Of this snapshot; soon that wind
 Will get the better of her
 And her marriage. Soon the future 
 I live in will break 
 Through those borders and make
 A photograph of her-but

 For now the shirts and blouses
 Are joyous with her in the yard
 As she stands with a wooden clothespin
 In her mouth, struggling to keep
 The bed sheets from blowing away.
	
~ from The Good Kiss  (The University of Akron Press, 2002)