Every winter seems impossible.
Clouds draped over the sun,
Naked trees, howling winds…
Yet still, the blossoms come.

Every winter seems impossible.
Clouds draped over the sun,
Naked trees, howling winds…
Yet still, the blossoms come.
This is a beautiful little quatrain. Where did you learn to write poetry like this?
With thanks and incredible remembrance,
Jeff Worley
Kentucky Poet Laureate, 2019-2020
jworley@uky.edu
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Jeff! I’ve been slogging along, writing poetry here and there. Would love to catch up.
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Hi, Melissa,
Anyway, I think I’m writing to you. I don’t know how “thelamppost” works!
I have an address for you in W. Sacramento, but you may have moved five times since then.
Yes! I would love to catch up but would feel way more comfortable doing this via email (jworley@uky.edu). I love your posts and can definitely relate, especially to your thoughts about writing and sending real letters (I just sent off a letter yesterday to Mike Schneider and have boxes of letters in my closet from as far back as 1967) and books, of course–a library of around 1,600 up here in my study/library.
I’m glad to hear you’re writing poetry–that’s where the big bucks are, after all!–and I’ll be glad to send you my new one–THE POET LAUREATE OF AURORA AVENUE–when I have a current address for you.
Be well.
Jeff
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