A friend calls to say
There’s so much bad poetry
Written nowadays
But I’m tired
And a maple sapling
I’ve been trying
To keep alive
Has died and the loss
Is insurmountable—
I’ve no words for it—
And I listen to him name
Poet after poet who
He says stinks and yes
They probably do stink
But my little tree…
Poet, Essayist, Blogger, Journalist, Memoirist, Disability Rights Advocate, Public Speaker, Professor, Syracuse University
