Diddlehead
One night, at the open mic,
a greyhaired elder poet
stood, and with great excitement
told us, the enraptured crowd
that it had taken fifty
years to place a poem with
that well-regarded journal
and everyone cheered and clapped.
One night, at the open mic,
a greyhaired elder poet
stood, and with great excitement
told us, the enraptured crowd
that it had taken fifty
years to place a poem with
that well-regarded journal
and everyone cheered and clapped.