Who’s afraid of poetry?
Who’s afraid of poetry? Good question!
Mom asked this half a century ago. The answers may well be the same today:
Four Tell
Who’s afraid of poetry?
Not I, said the football player.
I don’t understand it, but
the words are kind of pretty.
Who’s afraid of poetry?
Not I, said the busy housewife.
I even write some. It’s not good
but it makes me feel good.
Who’s afraid of poetry?
Not I, said the dilettante.
I never was. But I don’t like this sharing;
it’s getting to be common.
Who’s afraid of poetry?
I am, said the poet.
All this appreciation makes me
think I must be dead.
~ Joan Vayo ~ 1976
This photo was taken a few years later, after Mom, Dad, and Bill moved back to Fairfield, Connecticut. The older siblings were in various stages of college.
Mom’s writing desk is now in our sunroom, snug up against an expanse of windows. Just the way she’d like it.
“Four Tell” ©1976 Joan Vayo. All rights reserved.
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