Free Verse
happy poem
after I share a new poem, my grandmother challenges me to write a happy poem— as if the poems I write are not dictated by the rain, and the fullness of the moon. the words flow out of me with little regard for anything but themselves, a greedy necessity for life, and I grant them this. my fingers hold pen, press keys, free the words from confinement within myself. the words are not a reflection of my soul. they are a compulsion, an impulse; they are otherworldly. joy is not the only emotion. my grief is my own, and I hold it tenderly in the understanding of loving so deeply that loss tears my heart in two. my anger is both shield and weapon, protecting that which I love most. my sadness is inherited from those before me and those after me, a generational wound that longs to heal. the words in me long to heal and I must let them.
By katherine j zumpano7 months ago in Poets
