I write because the words I harbor
inside have barbs that slice me open
I write because my garden needs weeding,
editing out broken canes of the rosebush
we bought when we were still speaking
and cut flowers imprisoned in vases die
I write because I can and sometimes because
I just can’t…
I write because I cannot change the color
of tomorrow, cannot delete the things
I didn’t do yesterday; history is ravenous
and steals the crumbs of undone tasks I hate
wanting to do.
I write because my clock face has
a dispassionate veneer. Regret masticates
my day, eats my wishes like the dog who stole
the roast from the dinner table; but the dog
is satisfied and unrepentant; I am not.
I write because once you leave, you need
to return and there are places I’ve never been.
I write because fear glints off the lake
like a tarnished mirror and I can’t stop
looking deeper and harder for a reflection
of you, gone so long, so far.
I write because I’ve been snubbed by
my muse so many times and I need him,
love him, can’t write without him, and
I can’t lose him too.
J R (Judy) Turek, 2019 WWBA LI Poet of the Year, Superintendent of Poetry for the LI Fair, 2020 Hometown Hero by the East Meadow Herald, Bards Laureate 2013-2015, editor, workshop leader, and author of six poetry books, the most recent 24 in 24. ‘The Purple Poet’ lives on Long Island with her soul-mate husband, Paul, her dogs, and her extraordinarily extensive shoe collection.