After having just completed
My first good poem
I leapt to my
Feet in front of
My mentor and screamed
I found my voice
He grabbed my shoulder
And sat me down
Saying my dear boy
You’ve just begun to
Whisper and now forty
Years and thousands of
Poems I write with
The raspy voice of
Age preferring to whisper
Leaving the yelling to
The young and wondering
After all of this
Have I ever found
My voice at all
HARLAN DIDRICKSON 