I write because the words I harbor

inside have barbs that slice me open

for release.

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

so quick.

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.