A Journey Of 1,000 Miles
My first guest was a nun.
I hadn’t talked to one
since the second grade.
It was for a 5-minute feature
on people doing good work
in Rochester, New York.
I was in a studio, she
was on the phone.
As soon it was over,
I pressed a button
and erased the whole thing.
I broke out in a sweat.
Took a few deep breaths.
Then I called her back
and asked if she’d do it again.
Sure, she said, I think
I can do it better anyway.
/ / /
23 August 2023
Charlottesville NY
This is poem 33 in a series called 50 Days Till 50 Years. I’m writing a poem a day between now and my 50th birthday. I’m going to try to focus on memories of my past, and the people who inhabited it.
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