“Breathe in experience, breathe out poetry.” – Muriel Rukeyser
Every poet is trying to say something with their poem. We all might not get. In fact, the poet may not get it because the idea, lesson or image might be buried too deep and take another fifty revisions to unearth, if at all. But be assured, there is a story behind the poem.
My dad died in 1985 and an image remains with me of his best friend, this bulking, gentle giant of a mountain man, coming up to me as I stood in the receiving line in front of the casket at my dad’s wake, an image so strong that 36 years later I wrote the 13-word haiku “Kentucky Rain” that recently appeared in Haikuniverse:
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