An evening of Myth and Poetry
©2016 Annette Meserve
Do It, Do It Now
My mother-in-law is something of a celebrity here. She is the keeper of the history in an area that is steeped in tradition and, years ago, she wrote a book that captured the stories of the families that settled our valley.
Lately, she’s been talking about writing again, about giving a more personal account of her century on this land. But she doesn’t get to it. She’s tired and the stories are big; there’s so much writing to do.
Chances are that she’ll leave us, taking it all with her, perpetuating the disconnect between generations.
And this relates to poetry how?
Well, I spent three years writing a poem every morning before the day got started. Each was about whatever struck me as I sat down at the keyboard, writing about inconsequential things because it was within the unnoticed part of our lives that the true story was told.
After I'd tucked away a few dozen of these, I began to see a larger picture emerging, a broader description told in snapshots, something of a mosaic of my existence.
So, I don’t know if, sometime in the murky future, there will be anyone interested in an account of my time in this valley, of my walk on the planet, but I’m willing to bet Anne wouldn’t have thought so either.
In it's purest, poetry is a sharing of the things we see and think and feel, offered up in case anyone else sees and thinks and feels things this way too. It’s one way to share our humanity.
February 1, 2017 in Trinidad, CO