~ for Shelly & Diane

It’s that time of the month again.

Today, I’m meeting up with my fabulous poetry pals at our favorite gathering place, The Mercantile, just outside a bustling new agricommunity, in the rural wonderland of central Iowa, chowing down pita chips and their amazing dip – we can never decide between the garlic herb or the Merlot so now we just get one of each.

We’ll each savor a cool drink – I love their Honey Fire cinnamon whisky concoction – as we’re doted on by Robert and / or Rick (most agreeable young fellows!) inside a renovated country schoolhouse, with its charming brick walls and ceiling beams. Prairie grasses and field flowers sway in Iowa’s ubiquitous breezes, a pleasant view outside the tall north-facing windows, snug – just the three of us – in our preferred, cozy little corner, reading and sharing each other’s poetry.

It is a marvelous way to spend one’s afternoon.

I always, always eagerly look forward to spending this time with Shelly and Diane. I’m very grateful to have been invited to join this tiny but perfect little group. We discuss poetry, of course, and family and books, gardening and cooking, travel and film. And sometimes – sadly, often angrily – the dreadful, tumultuous state of our country. It’s best though, to not spoil the mood of our little get-together so once we’ve vented our frustrations with the current regime, we quietly and simply move on to other, more optimistic passions!

Our personalities, such a fine mesh. Our poetry styles, obviously unique and quite different from one another’s. Our accumulated life’s experiences, vast and varied.

For today’s Brew, I’ve prepared two poems birthed from the pages of my daily journal, each one written in the last few weeks. This morning, I tweaked them a bit – and then a bit more. Poems are, as you may know, never quite finished.