Hi everyone,
Last night at the Republic Library, we four poets arrived a little before 6:00 and prepared to give our readings. Not one person showed up to hear us. We enjoyed one another’s company for a while and then went our separate ways. Just prior to leaving, KAREN CRAIGO suggested that we ought to write poems about the experience of having a no-show audience. This is my poem. It’s all first draft, but at least I put more effort into it than our audience did last night. (:>
We missed you last night, as we sat on chairs at the library, eyes on the door through which you would enter, certainty growing as minutes ticked by that you weren't coming. You were probably detained, you and all the others who didn't show up, by pressing, last-minute complications -- such as a call from the governor, pleading for your help, or your 12-year-old daughter announcing with justifiable pride her acceptance into Harvard, or an unexpected, heart-wrenching search for a neighbor's missing cat. We forgave you of course, as bards will. We had prepared carefully for the event, given serious thought to what we would read, practiced, chosen what to wear, driven from our homes, arrived on time, pulled into the empty library lot. Who could not forgive someone like you, who, perhaps, halfway there had to stop to give birth in the back seat? Or witnessed an armed robbery and pulled over to assist the police in chasing down the bad guys? Or one of you probably won the Nobel Prize for Physics and naturally, needed time to write your speech? We missed you last night, but who could hold a grudge against so many people achieving so many admirable things? This poem is not written in revenge. Poets are above pettiness. It's just that we're so very proud of you. (c) 2023 by David L. Harrison, all rights reserved
Children's Author David L. Harrison's Blog 