Margo Writes Poetry that I Like

I just got back from a lovely visit with Margo and Dr. D in Lexington, VA, mostly spent talking and eating and walking dogs.  Yesterday, Margo gave me a book of her poetry.  I always feel a little ambivalent when people I love share their creative work with me.  I’m excited to see what they’ve produced, yet I’m terrified I’ll hate it and have to effuse fake appreciation for it.

I should say at this point, also, that I don’t enjoy poetry.  Excluding the fine works of Shel Silverstein, I find poetry inaccessible.  Moreover, I know you’re supposed to read poetry like you taste wine:  read a little bit, swish it around for awhile, and see what you notice.

Well, I couldn’t do that with Margo’s book.  I woke up at 2am, picked it up, and at 3, I was still chugging through the thing.  I loved it.  It was narrative and lyrical, thought-provoking without being cryptic, sad yet hopeful.  Made me want to write poetry.