Reading two poetry manuals I realize I’m not
writing poems each morning if they are
they’re modern. Chaotic, without rhythm,
rhyme, alliteration, imagery more
like crabbing diary reports
on daily politics or my aches
My perceptions: petty paltry
nothing new nothing to write home
about I should follow steps offered
by Kowit, Lockward read with intent
the exemplar poems given
I’m lazy I prefer to read not peruse.

Easter Sunday in the West for those who
celebrate the Eastern Orthodox Church
commemorates later Russia demands
Mariupol in Ukraine surrender slavery
the chief goal of war I can do nothing
I give money I pray posting on Facebook
is futile there are local battles
to watch I’m an old woman I should
dress in black count my beads
on my knees in church every day
turn off the news, cower at home
read novels, write bad verse.
I read watch. Some choices/
options are better than others.