UK National Poetry Day

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Hello Red Cabbage Head readers,

I think recently I made a comment about putting images into words. And often that is exactly the way a poem forms itself. I literally get an image in my head and the words form around it. Sometimes just a still image, a sentence that I expand upon later. Sometimes it’s a veritable movie in there and verses upon verses flow forward. And over at

Poetry Pals

Nelly had us thinking about why we write poetry, what our job is. I have another in the making but it isn’t finished yet.

Photo by Anika Huizinga on Unsplash

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Is there a line even poetry shouldn’t cross?

Is there a line even poetry shouldn’t cross?
Am I standing there now 
looking down at this visible invisible line
drawn at my feet?
A simple stumble will tip me over into 
a land I shouldn’t explore?
A simple trip will propel me into 
a state of different being?
But I totter like a toddler finding its feet
indecision like glue holding my feet firm.
Is there a line? 
Can poetry be about the wrong thing?

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That’s all folks, til next time.

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