Five poems came back to me today
From half a year ago
Reading them with fresh new eyes
I was meeting new friends
For they were written
Before I was to become who I am today
And their messages
Reach out to me across the days
To remind me of how far I have come
In such a short time
I was longing
For a typewriter to pen my poems upon
And wrote of the
Feel of the keys and the sound of the bell
Before I had
Even discovered my current obsession
And I had to laugh
Because I had forgotten that the bell rings
When the carriage reaches the
End of the line not with the lever that shifts it
And so I had to rewrite that poem
To include this new information
And it dawned on me that life is kind of like that
Trying, waiting, returning, revising, growing
And as I sit with my friends of the past
I ponder a new home for them
For that after all
Is poetry
