I find it hard to believe that it was one year ago when I wrote the following poem and posted it on my blog, February 18, 2012. At the time, it was Untitled, but later I named it "Daddy's Girl."
I'd been seeing prop planes everywhere I went, whether walking or driving, and that particular afternoon the words just came to me. I sat at my laptop and this is what I wrote:
Daddy's Girl
I strolled along the
pavement,
the sound of quiet surrounding me
like a quilt. The stillness was deafening
until I heard the engine of a prop plane
flying overhead. Pausing and shading my eyes,
I squint and watch it putter across
the powder blue sky.
Memories flood my soul,
immediately tugging my mouth
into a wide grin.
the sound of quiet surrounding me
like a quilt. The stillness was deafening
until I heard the engine of a prop plane
flying overhead. Pausing and shading my eyes,
I squint and watch it putter across
the powder blue sky.
Memories flood my soul,
immediately tugging my mouth
into a wide grin.
The next day I walk
the
same path. A distant cardinal chirps,
most likely believing it's already spring.
Why shouldn't he?
These past few days have been nothing
but glorious.
Just the calendar page declares
it's only early February.
I turn, searching for his brilliant crimson color
among the vast bare branches
but my eyes cannot find him.
same path. A distant cardinal chirps,
most likely believing it's already spring.
Why shouldn't he?
These past few days have been nothing
but glorious.
Just the calendar page declares
it's only early February.
I turn, searching for his brilliant crimson color
among the vast bare branches
but my eyes cannot find him.
I notice the sky is full
of vapor trails.
Those wispy, cloud-like streaks also
carry memories for the child within me.
Those wispy, cloud-like streaks also
carry memories for the child within me.
I think back. All those
years ago.
The newness of jet
airplanes and the
thundering explosions of
sonic booms.
My dad explaining the
magic & mystery.
I close my eyes, and for a moment
I'm standing motionless in my front yard again.
Staring up, marveling at the sight above,
taking it all in and thinking as profoundly as
a five-year-old possibly can.
I close my eyes, and for a moment
I'm standing motionless in my front yard again.
Staring up, marveling at the sight above,
taking it all in and thinking as profoundly as
a five-year-old possibly can.
Blinking, I hesitate for
a moment, then
become aware of my
present surroundings.
I begin my walk back
home.
Tomorrow. Maybe tomorrow
Tomorrow. Maybe tomorrow
I'll return to the same
path,
thinking back and I'll
reminisce once more.
Sentimental journeys.
Always bittersweet.
thinking back and I'll
reminisce once more.
Sentimental journeys.
Always bittersweet.
©2012 Becky Povich
Although I'm amazed that I wrote poetry, what's even more amazing is that it was a breakthrough day. From then on, I began to write more often, felt more confident, and had very little writer's block.
If you're not familiar with my love of prop planes, the following post will help.
http://beckypovich.blogspot.com/2012/02/nostalgic-sundays_19.html
* Welcome to my newest follower Pat. I hope you'll stop by often and always enjoy what you read and see! *
"I don't believe that life is supposed to make you feel good, or make you feel miserable either. Life is just supposed to make you feel." -- Gloria Naylor
I remember reading that post. You're right. It sure doesn't seem like a year ago.
ReplyDeletePat
Critter Alley
I remember this poem well Becky. As you know, I have a cute little plane that I look at every day now. It's my muse and it inspires me to fly. By the way, as I reread this poem I realized what a good poem it is. Hope you make sone time to write some more. You're good at it.
ReplyDeleteWell thank you, although I'm not really a NEW follower- just a new email follower ;) Thanks-- and lovely poem.
ReplyDeleteI'm so glad you shared this again, Becky. I missed it last year. Wonderful poem!
ReplyDeleteI remember when you first posted this, Becky. It is great to know that after you did you finished your book!
ReplyDeleteKathy M.
Oh wow! What a wonderful poem :) I love old prop planes, too. They're just so cool.
ReplyDeleteI remember the poem well.
ReplyDeleteAnd I'm glad it broke through your block, too!
=)
How good your poem was a breakthrough for you, so you are writing more. I am new to writing poetry, and think it is very freeing to write in this genre.
ReplyDeleteI like your poem very much. Thanks for sharing it.
ReplyDeleteThanks, everyone! I really appreciate your comments!!
ReplyDeleteAwesome poem, Becky. I always admire someone that can write poetry that doesn't rhyme. I can NOT do it.
ReplyDeleteKathy
Awww, thanks Kathleene!
ReplyDeleteThis poem is beautiful. And meaningful indeed. How wonderful that it took but one to really bring you into the world of poetry.
ReplyDelete