There is a short, daily radio program hosted by author and entertainer, Garrison Keillor called “The Writer’s Almanac.” He starts off with some information pertinent to that day in history and then reads one poem. Here in Maine, the show is on at eight in the morning and I often heard it on my way to work as I drove along, alone with my own thoughts. Here is my take on that experience.
Dangerous Poems- 2/25/05
My car hums along the morning highway and the man with the laconic voice, the man from Minnesota, comes over the radio.
It is time for dangerous poetry.
This is always a moment of apprehension. This is a moment to hold the breath and be ready to snap the volume off or… pay close attention and let the vision develop.
My day has just begun and could be anything. My mind is open and uncluttered, waiting to find out how things will go.
Will it be drawn up in hope and humor?
Cast off in deep thoughts?
Or crushed in some previously unknowns personal misery?
Will it be:
“I met a funny man in a cap…”
“Cancer has gripped her body and hopes…”
Perhaps I’m a coward, but it seems that it’s too early this morning for cancer. The day is fresh. My smile is easy, but as the Minnesotan speaks the words, I listen with worry in my eyes.
My hand hovers over the dial.
“I saw a woman with a bright blue hat today…”
Oh, thank goodness.