I was over at an outdoor poetry writing event where I looked at the picture of the Bronte sisters that their brother drew (and his own form is shadowed out). It sparked this poem:
Was it because you
Your sisters better than yourself
Weren’t satisfied with self
How to capture
A spirit spent
They didn’t mean to overshadow
Yet your gift,
In painting them,
Is precious to those who love their works
And your self-effacing
Does not diminish your gift,
Bran well Bronte!
Today, thinking about how I didn’t know if the poet I showed it to was just encouraging me or really thought it was good (and I signed it for them and left it to be put on a poetry blog), I remembered an incident of years ago, and wrote this:
I want to write poetry, I said,
some grand notion floating in my head.
What Ed said to me then
gave concrete shape to my poetic bent:
Poetry for fame and forture or
Poetry like we all write?
Beth Werner Lee