Poet Jane Hirshfield said "... the feeling I have about poem-writing (is) that it is always an exploration, of discovering something I didn't already know.  Who I am shifts from moment to moment, year to year.  What I can perceive does as well.  A new poem peers into mystery, into whatever lies just beyond the edge of knowable ground."

I bring a different poem to the writing classes each week, not only to inspire but to introduce new poets to the group members.

Light Bulb by Lorna Crozier

At first you thought you’d plant it with the rest.  But 
you were defeated by its fragility and the stem’s refusal to 
grow.  The bulb turned out to be insensitive to spring and, 
though half its name was light, sunshine meant nothing to 
it.  Glass made it glimmer like a living thing, but you soon 
discovered it was not.  Why call the object bulb, then?  Why 
give it that shape?  Isn’t this fast advertising, the height 
of corporate deceit, igniting our hopes that it will be a 
brighter daffodil, a tulip for the dark, a gleaming gladiolus, 
its tall stalk like a string of old-fashioned Christmas 
lights turning on its blossoms one by one?

~from The Book of Marvels (Greystone Books, 2012)

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