I wrote this poem instead of taking a photograph.

What’s mine is mine forevermore


I cannot prove to you the beauty

of my days. I did not photograph

the whiteness of the goatsmilk

or the child of my friends

standing in the doorway

of the barn clutching at the neck

of a giant teddy bear.

I can only tell you all the flowers

that I gathered up this Sunday:

daisies and the buttercups;

asters and the rest. They stand

in crooked dignity

in a jar I’ve used for applesauce

and salad dressing. They haven’t told

me that they’re interested in being

known, and so I keep them

to myself, a self so very

skilled at keeping.


5 thoughts on “I wrote this poem instead of taking a photograph.

  1. Fabulous! I once rode my bicycle a long long long way all across the country and more. I did not take one singe picture. But the creations inspired – the poems! and the art! – were, and are, treasured along with my memories.

  2. Such a lovely poem, Taylor. It makes me think of all the times I’ve wished I were a painter like my Dad, but merely have words instead. But this poem makes me glad that you have words.

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