Like the shopworn self-satisfied serial killer of detective shows, I return to the scene of the crime any time I post a poem. Usually the poems have disappeared from where I left them. Once in a while they hang around for a few weeks, and sometimes they find new hiding spots, as if they are protecting themselves from a culling.
A few days ago I taped “When the Giving is All We Have” to an albizia tree. I figured it would blow away into the dried-up fish farm nearby. Instead it made its way to a hidey-hole of tree roots.
Hope someone finds it before the ink fades.
A second poem has also survived. Three weeks ago (three weeks!) I taped an excerpt from “A Married State” to a fence. It fell to the ground, lost body parts, but is still recognizable. Hang in there, poem! Don’t give up.
Happy Easter, Happy Passover to all!