Maybe (or Gasrden’s Fall Ballet)


I mentioned previously that I am taking Maya Stein’s feral writing class right now. The approach is unique and different for me which is resulting in some notable (to me) differences in what I am writing. There’s a rhythm that keeps repeating, night after night, as I work on the day’s assignment. A word or short phrase followed by an expansion on that word. It makes for a distinct rhythm that I can recognize. The feedback that Maya gives each day is incredibly specific and constructed in such a way as to make you look at your writing and your process from a different perspective, asking questions, challenging more work in a certain area. What she doesn’t provide is a critique or guidance on certain poetry forms or mechanics.

It’s a very different experience for me and one that I feel stretching me.

The wind off the garden
Is chilly today
And damp
Fall is in the air.
Petals drop
Like tiny ballerinas spinning to the ground
And stick
Flattened by rain drops
Layers of fading color
Like a stained glass window
Muted in the early morning sun.
Maybe I’ll take a picture
Or try to capture the wet light in water color
Or write a poem
Or maybe,
I’ll just sit and watch the garden’s Fall ballet.


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