Hi! This is Walking By.
I was walking home from the grocery store, through the wooded neighborhood, past the old craftsman’s & bungalows, Past the mossy winter trees & unruly gardens when I saw a poem attached to a fence in a special wooden box with a glass face. I stopped to read it. And it was beautiful & also awkwardly poetic. “Good for you,” I thought, “write from your own heart Fence Poet! Don’t worry about judgy folks like myself, just walking by, no courage to post their own poems out on the street.

At home I sit down on the burgundy leather couch that was long-ago wrecked by cats and search for this poet on-line. I’m going all-in now: supporting my neighborhood poets even if they’re a bit heavy-handed. Perhaps she has a blog to follow or a chapbook to buy. I find this is actually an accomplished poet. Who doesn’t own that particular fence. Whose words only sound over-done now because of all who came after who employed the phrase, the attitude, the trick. But either way our opinions are just shirts that keep us warm and make us feel a certain way.”

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