June 2017
Joan Mazza
joan.mazza@gmail.com
joan.mazza@gmail.com
I’m retired from my work as a microbiologist and later as a psychotherapist. I love the freedom to do as I please, to create handmade one-of-a-kind cards or sew quilts, or work on poetry, dipping in and out of it like a tern running along the shore. By reading and writing poetry, I come to terms with my obsessions. www.JoanMazza.com
On Being Asked How I Write a Poem Every Day
Some days I wear a hat, boots, and work gloves,
and push the wheelbarrow over logs and mud,
ruts and roots that trip along the way. I hold my pace
steady, breathe hard against the incline, no slowing
my rhythm. At the northwest corner of the property,
where the creek runs deep, I dig with my spade
into the path worn by deer and raccoon. The soil
is black under old oaks, detritus of shed bark,
branches, leaves of every dying autumn.
There, I open a vein in the earth, stand still to listen
to crows call and respond: four caws each,
my eyes closed while the wheelbarrow fills.
-first published in Tule Review, fall 2012
© 2017 Joan Mazza
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