Poem

It’s raining outside. A heavy rain.
And with it a feeling of release.
I just sat there feeling very little.
No pressure to do anything, but write.
Finally. I gave myself permission to write.
I’ve been telling myself to submit to publications,
but I haven’t. My cell vibrated and a half hour passed,
and while still on the phone, a text came in from
a childhood friend. He told me my step-mother
needed to hear my voice. She’s doing better, though.
I said goodbye, replied to the text, “I will call her,”
and my phone rang again. Same family member, needed
to say more. I found myself remembering that I needed to
go to the post office and just like that I was in my truck.
It’s a mess outside. The rain won’t let up. I decided to grab
some beer for when I got home to write. Inside the little
store it wasn’t busy and I was the only one at the post office.
Now I’m home. Looking out the window. It’s 11:57 AM.
Not sure who’s going to call next. I owe lots of people phone
calls and I’m not sure when I’ll get to it. But for now, I think
I’ll shut everything off, and again, give myself permission to write.

-M. Taggart

6 thoughts on “Poem

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