The Write Stuff
Granddaughter writes her name
on library craft box of crayons.
It leads to memory-drawn convo
between her mother and I,
sharing how our journeys began.
Mine that of plastic pen, metal nib,
and well of ink, scratches between
lines of news-stock, bland paper.
She, with ball-point on smooth
white, had trouble with cursive
capitals “G” and “F.”
Letters became words; sentences.
Where before, in unarticulated
experience, our strings beaded
into committed ideas, into
jewelry boxes of stories.
She travels on crafts; with notebook
and stylus to who knows where.
Björn is today’s host for dVerse’ Poetics Tuesday. Björn says:
So think of a travel you have made, think of why you made it and maybe how it may have changed you as well.
This is such a clever take on the prompt, Lisa
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Smitha, thank you <3
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The image of the granddaughter with a crayon opening into three journeys of writing—plastic pen and metal nib on newsprint, ballpoint struggling with cursive capitals, and now stylus and notebook traveling toward who-knows-where. But what stays is that line: “our strings beaded into committed ideas, into jewelry boxes of stories.” Writing as transformation, unarticulated experience becoming something you can hold. Each generation writes the same becoming, just with different instruments.
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Thank you so much for your insightful feedback <3
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