I am not sure what turned my attention to boxes today–probably the family size box of Crispy Oats sitting in front of me on the table.

Also it is Wednesday morning, and as the poem mentions it is trash day.

Not much commentary today. The poem feels . . . actually, I’m not sure yet.

I’ve been going through my poems to pick out ones that I’m going to put into my first book of poetry. And as I read my own poems, I find that some resonate more with me than others.

And likewise some resonate less. I’m too close to having finished this one to know if this one will be more of less.

Here’s the conversation I had with my poetry mentor.

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