_ Poetry Challenge Day 88 (Fri Dec 31)_
This is an attempt at
writing a poem when I have no idea
what is about to come out…
Satisfaction with my work is a
commodity that is hard for me to come by.
I tend to be a perfectionist,
also my biggest critic.
I sometimes feel that with infinite time available to me
I could reach a goal worthy of my desire,
of course, we aren’t given that luxury.
Perhaps this is what you naturally feel
when you look back on your year
and try to make sense out of it.
That’s what I’m going to tell myself.
I don’t see perception in this regard changing
a great deal when I look forward
to the coming year…
I thought when I started my poetry project
that it might be life changing.
At this point (after 88 days)
there is no clear answer to that question.