These fragments I have shored against my ruins. -T.S. Eliot

These fragments I have shored against my ruins.  -T.S. Eliot

Sunday, June 1, 2014

A Word


























I used to think when I turned thirty I would become a writer.
Thirty passed.
I wrote here then, daily. Poems. Essays. Words like leaves on a page curling, turning over in the wind.
I wrote before that, too. Decades before: shelves, walls, boxes of words.
I didn't know what blogger meant. Monetize, followers, trolls.
And then erasure happened.
It swept.
My knees became my feet, my eyes like the closing flowers, unseen.


I have dwelt in caves dripping.
Time has passed. The sun is higher.
I write.
I want you to know I am still writing.
Yes, my answer will always be yes,

I am writing.


Image: John Bridges, Embrace
Text: Terresa Wellborn