Six hundred years ago
you had different ways
and reasons for making.
Love, Human. The same.
I came because your David
struck me here—
art class, years ago.
You came because your children
are not marble.
The NaPoWriMo prompt for Day 14 was to write a poem in dialogue form.
Graceful Press Poetry 
Ahh. So he knows your fears? You’ve nicely pointed to all the striving in art, in poetry, and how that unites us.
Always a welcome read mid-day.
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I was amazed by how insightful the old dear really was. š Of course I had to distill our lengthy conversation…
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That last line. **
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š That was really the sum of it, for me. Took me awhile to get there, but yeah.
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I’d like to know the background to this poem.
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It is a bit cryptic, isn’t it? Without all the inbetween skips and meanderings, I was thinking about art and writing and creating and also about my kids and also about seeing Donatello’s works at the Bargello last fall.
I’m sure that wasn’t helpful at all.
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On the contrary, it was the feeling I already had. Just checking I was along the right lines š
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