This past week was the week of the poetry workshop at Squaw Valley, and here at my house, a poetry weekend following that format. It was a wonderful weekend. I’m sure I’ll be posting something from the weekend soon–the work was exhilarating. Meanwhile, here’s a poem from a poet who has been part of the staff at Squaw Valley in years past:
Zehra Begum
your ribs are thick ridges
but you do not eat.
your eyes are so tired
but you do not sleep.
you say you want to feel belief
but you do not pray.
Kazim, listen:
fruit out of dirt
is your proof.
folding into sleep
is the miracle. Continue reading “Monday again”