Wordsworth wrote an endless poem in blank verse on” the growth of a poet’s mind.”  I shall attempt a more modest feat for a more distracted age: a blog, “Things which a Lifetime of Trying to Be a Poet has Taught Me.”

There are so many ways a hike can turn out. The best ones help overcome the division between head and heart.  Not this one!


The upward slopes were potent to entice

The feet; the snow-clad fir and swirling cloud,

The eye.  The weather had suppressed the crowd.

It seemed a perfect chance.  So, in a trice

I left.  The bitter cold soon felt quite nice

As I toiled upward.  For a while I plowed

Ahead, but soon my trek was disallowed

By snow that passing feet had turned to ice.

To climb was fine.  “But what about descending?

In hiking, what goes up must come back down,”

The Brain observed, and so the trip was over.

It seemed a great defeat, that journey’s ending.

The Brain had won.  But, though it came around,

The Heart sighed, yearning still to be a rover.

Remember: for more poetry like this, order Dr. Williams’s collected poetry, Stars through the Clouds, 2nd edition (Lantern Hollow Press, 2020) at https://smile.amazon.com/dp/173286800X?ref_=pe_3052080_397514860!

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