Exploring the mountains of stuff at my mother's house yesterday, I found the first poem I wrote. I must have been all of six years old. I know I was too young to know how to write because my aunt wrote down the words for me. I guess I had a leaning toward the blues even then. Here it is:
Bees in the cupboard, cows in the corn
Bees in the cupboard, cows in the corn
I wonder where the dog was born
That's it. I could probably learn something from the economy of my early work. Obviously, I identified with the dog.
5 comments:
Love it.
I love this poem too. What a great start.
What a find--this is fabulous. A cupboard of bees is a great description of a hive, too.
Thanks for posting this.
Wow, if only my later work were as popular. It's funny I can still remember what I was feeling when I wrote this: that the world was crowded and I wasn't sure there was room for me.
That's absolutely wonderful!
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