Reading the Right to Write

While I browsed the table of contents in The Right to Write this evening, exhausted from seven hours of field day and looking for tonight's inspiration to leap off the page, my nine year old daughter, who was pretending to be my professor, said, "Write a poem, Mom, and make it thick."
Thick... I'd not thought of poetry as thick... So, I took the page she offered and wrote:


POTATO SOUP
My poems
remind me of Grandma Patti's potato soup.
Unmeasured thick, chunky words ladled
into WalMart Correll.
An occasional onion, discovered too late
to be pushed to the bowl's rim.
Hints of celery, carrot,
blended words, nearly invisible
that paint images
of thick potato soup.

After writing the poem, I read the chapter titled Connections. Tomorrow, I'll write that piece.

Laura