Taking my stroll today, I found myself thinking about poems–not my own, but other people’s–and about poetry in general. Some questions came to mind: Why don’t I get tired of poetry? Why, after all these years, do I continue to read it, to write it, to think about it, to read what other people say about it, to talk of it with willing friends?

I find I will get tired of hearing (or reading) even excellent interviews, articles, and podcasts about politics or movies or social commentary or numerous other things that interest me. And while it’s true I’m sometimes not in the mood, or haven’t the energy, to listen to poetry readings, I’d say that in general–aside from my physical fatigue–a good poetry reading in-person or virtual, and any poetry discussion, does interest me. Why is that? When so few people find poetry fascinating.

But then, I don’t get tired of going to art museums and art galleries, either (and I’m not an artist).

One poetry-related space I’ve been enjoying is going on a poetry hike with Grant Clauser via YouTube. Also, thanks to Dave Bonta‘s compendium of poetry-related blogs, I’m intrigued as Brian Turner shares with his readers the process he takes to make and revise poems. The way he composes turns out to be not un-similar to my own way of writing poetry, starting with hand-written notes and crossings-out and arrows and re-writings, though I don’t use a notebook much these days. Some of us remain old school! But I also fine myself engrossed by seeing the methods other writers use–younger poets, or people with disabilities that keep them from the handwritten draft–to start and the develop their poems. One of my former students uses voice-to-text and simple recordings/playbacks to write, for example. I’d find that awkward, but for her it enables marvels for expression.

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This week, I’ve paused on my artist book while I wait for some paper that I ordered to show up at the art store. Next, I have decided that I need to start practicing paper-cutting. I used to be a fairly deft hand with an exacto knife, but that was 45 years ago, and I’m not as steady-handed as I once was. Once I have some samples cut to size, I might be ready to experiment with a digital printer.

One thing at a time.

Meanwhile, the October we’ve had in our region this year has been extraordinarily mild, sunny, and dry. So I have been able to work on yard/garden/outdoor home maintenance projects and the indoor work of book-making can wait a bit longer. Right?

P. S. I do not have an answer for this question. Maybe you do? Why poetry?

Heading into November…