for We Grew Up In Goffstown

The old pictures and clippings are history,
I suppose, but sitting here in Thailand and
perhaps to those who were actually there they
seem more in the way of poetry that’s connected
to a time and place. And if you step back,
the question of what a poem really is seems
to come into focus?


Here’s what I think:


A poem’s job is to describes the nature of
poetry itself in fewer and fewer words
until the world divides into a storehouse
of remembered things and a clear current
of air, which though escaping and uncatchable,
seems to know our name.


FG September 19, 2011

All rights reserved by the author Forrest Greenwood