Rowing Down a River
I find myself in the middle of incredible
joy. I find myself in the middle of passion.
I have at times, found myself in the middle
of arguments. And at times I have been
in the middle of making difficult decisions.
I am neither above or below.
My mother was an only child.
Of her nine children, I was the one
in the middle. My middle name
belongs to my mother. My first
to my Dad.
I take the middle slice of cake, the middle
fruit from the tree. My house is neither
top or bottom of the street. I have rowed
a raft down the middle of the river. I have
oft’ times found myself in the middle of love,
hope and peace. I know there will be other times
when I am in the middle of great sadness.
I think this is not the middle of the poem;
it is the end. I find myself in the middle
of a whole month writing poems. I find
myself in the middle of true passion.
Benita H. Kape © 15.4.2017
Last, but not least, here’s our prompt for the day (optional, as always!). Because we’re halfway through NaPoWriMo/GloPoWriMo today, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem that reflects on the nature of being in the middle of something. The poem could be about being on a journey and stopping for a break, or the gap between something half-done and all-done. Half a loaf is supposedly better than none, but what’s the difference between half of a very large loaf and all of a very small one? Let your mind wander into the middle distance, betwixt the beginning of things and the end. Hopefully, you will find some poetry there!