By Elizabeth Cutright
 © 2012 The Daily Creative Writer

Another hectic Monday and I don’t when I’m going to find the time to write (beyond my daily morning pages, of course!).  Catching up after a week out of the office means meetings and emails…so many, many emails.

Life goes on, and the pace only quickens when you’re jumping time zones and dodging carry-on restrictions.  And while I certainly felt a sense of accomplishment in continuing my daily entries from outposts along the US Airways southwest flight plan, I also know that I must keep my momentum going – even when all I really want to do is head for a sunny beach, cold beer in hand.

So instead of getting too deep into a discussion of mentors and motivators today, instead I offer up snippet of my past.  I tricky little poem that I still can’t seem to get just right.  I know what I want to say, but I just can’t seem to bend the words to my will.  And so I keep trying, changing tenses and molding rhythms.  Seems appropriate.  After all, aren’t well just a work in progress?

Clover
By Elizabeth Cutright

I stretch my hand across the clover,
and although it’s wet with dew –
I feel your cool dark hair
wrapped ’round my fingers.

I stare up at the bluest sky,
and although the bright sun glows –
it pales against memories:
Bright and shining eyes.

Your smell, your touch, your taste,
Linger.
You fill the air.
Seep through the walls.

So when they say,
“that’s it, one touch, one taste, one smile.”
I stretch my hand across the clover and I know –
no world’s heaven could be more.

7/17/97 (Rev June 2012)

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