as someone’s fancy
that refused to stay
This poem is linked to Imaginary Gardens With Real Toads' Tuesday Platform and Poets United Poetry Platform 438.
The Liner Notes for This Groove:
So I had a phone call with a friend recently…
Her: It arrived didn’t it?
Me: Yep, in a plain non-descript brown packaging, but it’s here.
Her: Ooooooh… have you opened it?
Me: I’m doing that now.
*tearing of paper ensues*
Me: Oh my, this is…
Her: Tell me everything.
Me: I never thought I’d be bold enough to hold something like this in my hands. Just, wow.
Her: I’ll bet you’re caressing it right now, aren’t you?
Me: Caressing. Fondling. Sniffing. It looks damn good on my bedspread. I think after I spend a little time with it, I’m going to leave it here for my husband to find. I think he’s even more excited about it than I am.
Her: It’s great he’s so supportive.
Me: Mmm-hmm. We are both going to have a very good time with this.
There’s something about holding something that just started out as a few random ideas. If as Ann Patchett said “Writing is a job, a talent, but it's also the place to go in your head. It is the imaginary friend you drink your tea with in the afternoon” getting to hold the finished product is like seeing your imaginary friend walking around in broad daylight.
Did you ever get a chance to hold something that you only imagined before? If you have a cyberhome, elaborate on how that felt and drop the link in the comments. Or feel free to start up some conversation on what’s going on in your world.