top of page

Lost and Found

Inspired by a friend from grad school, I decided to make a poem out of my new books from

the Rochester Children's Book Festival, (which was great!). I guess you could say it's a type of found poem.

Using only titles and other words appearing on the covers or book descriptions, I've written a poem that's all about my love for fiction. Titles include:

Getting to spread my poetic wings was such a great experience. It feels like it's been forever since I've written a really fun poem, and that's exactly what this exercise was...FUN!

Fiction

Press the candle’s wick

with just the right touch of

twilight and… “Evil,”

Librarian says,

“comes in all sizes and shapes.”

Today’s mystery:

Meet Edgar Allan’s

Crow? “No. You’re silly children,”

she says. But we aren’t.

We made a promise

to books and stories and yes,

the Riverman.

We want to believe in

fiction. We do it for love.

Or at least we went

ahead and said “I

Kill,” when we knew He could see

different. But not our

Librarian. “The

mockingbird,” she says, “cloaked in

red, is the story

of Little Red. And

you think you know fairytales?”

Yes. We do. Because

we believe. She is

only beginning to know,

to understand. “Deep

in the forest,” she

says. The secondhand ticks and

she becomes young. It’s

magic, a charm. She

gets her chance inside

the story. Like us.

Enchanted trinkets

tell time with golden straw, with

stories and…“Have you

ever wondered just

what Rumpelstiltskin wondered?”

Her words confront the

legend better than

ours ever could. That long name

she speaks appeals to

us. We believe. We

wake up, missing the day. The

promises made might

change, never told, nor

real. We scrawl this story here

for you. We know it

might make things worse. “Hide,”

Librarian says.“Hide yourselves.”

Promises can change

just like people. Man

sees all. “That,” she says, “is all

the truth that’s in me.”

xoxo

K.K.

bottom of page