I started writing poetry in college, when I took a one-week graduate-level poetry course. I ate, drank, and slept poetry. It seeped into my blood and still pumps through me, impacting all my writing.
My favorite lesson from the poetry course was: Poetry is a snapshot of life. Capture the senses and emotions of a moment.
The following poem is still a work in progress, capturing a moment in my early-married life.
Harvest Ball
New parents with six-week-old baby in tow,
we trudge through snow to the harvest ball.
Exhaustion from baby nursing nights
and intense school days
melts under music.
We jive and spin to the
rich brass call of Sing, Sing, Sing.
I float in his arms as we
trace the steps of Strauss’ Vienna Waltz.
We laugh our way through fast songs.
He has natural rhythm and style.
I follow in stumbling imitation.
Walk like an Egyptian and Cotton Eye Joe
I lay my head on his shoulder
to the gentle swaying of Lady in Red.
Our baby watches from her car seat,
then begs to join.
We dance, her nestled between us,
until she falls asleep.
A limbo line starts.
I try my luck and startle to find that
pregnancy limbered my joints.
I skim under the stick at waist height.
He cheers me on.
We return to our dancing.
Two become one in music and movement.
Hours later we return home,
the dance making our steps light over snow
and our hearts ready for the coming struggles.
M. L. Farb - Author 