Each snowflake, like each human being is unique. |
12 Rahmat 163 B.E. – July 5, 2006 A.D. On Thursday, August 3, 2006, my mother and I will read at the eighth annual Ladies Poetry Night. This year the event is at the Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf across from UNLV. My mother and I are among ten women who will read for ten minutes. My mother is eighty-five years old, she didn’t start writing poetry until she was eighty-one. I’m not sure what I’m going to read but I need to pick the poems out and practice. I’ve got several new poems, so I’ll read mostly new poems. I think I’ll read only a couple of old poems. Begin with my signature peace, I have a signature poem, but I’m considering writing a new one. Most of the poems I’ll read will have something to do with women. I do have a performance piece I do with a hand puppet. The problem is I don’t know where the hand puppet is, I put it away and don’t remember where. Instead of the poem with the hand puppet, I’ll do the Harley poem. It’s called Remembrance of my First Love. I’ve got a Harley-Davidson cap I can wear with that, but the cap might not go with the dress I’m going to wear that night. OK, I’ve got Remembrance of my First Love, write a new signature piece, and pick out the rest of the poems I’m going to read. Perhaps Necessary Sacrifices as the other older poem, I don’t know just yet. |