I suppose 26 out of 30 poems is not bad. It is probably good for that little perfectionist voice I hear in my head. I recognize why. In a word, fatigue. I have spent the last 3 months writing for the National Boards of Professional Teaching Standards. A totally different kind of writing. And that last week in March was brutal. (another post, another day).
So I am going to be gentle and try not to beat myself up too much.
My favorite poem of the month: "For My Granddaughter" and Poems 23, 24, 25, and 26
The poem that eluded me: A prompt using "ring, blanket, and drum".
I am looking forward to next year.
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