A Nod to Unwritten Poems
There are poems unwritten in the drawers of my mind,
poems unformed, incomplete phrases lying out of order—
when did trouble find—how hard it—phrases
like the would-be forest that laps at my back door,
where seedlings struggle to survive and dwarf
a burning bush now spreading its branches over
what I call weeds; where each morning I tether
my puppy to a tree and pull at weeds
while she sniffs and searches.
How much of life is rooted out unformed, how much
remains unfinished, how every life will end, and
how most break off mid
Miriam Weinstein lives in the Land of 10,000 Lakes. She loves birds of all colors and shapes but is partial to the Minnesota state bird, the Common Loon. Weinstein’s poems have been published in a chapbook, Twenty Ways of Looking by Finishing Line Press, several journals, and anthologies.