he said…
over fifty years ago
awful writing
outed me by name
not worth comments
ripped it in half
in front of the class
chucked it in the trash
my cheeks burned
shame carved a pit
I tumbled in
made my home
for three decades
after I survived
being crushed by a tree
thought, now or never
clawed out of the pit
braved another class
months of hard work
this professor called me in
I huddled in the chair
waiting
consider this—handed me
a spiral-bound book
I hefted the weight
before peering at the title
Graduate Writing Programs
two thoughts
I need this much help?
he must see potential
twenty-five years later
1 memoir
3 novels
715 poems
2024 ©Amrita Skye Blaine
I’m writing a poem a day. These are drafts—not final versions.