Thursday, May 11, 2017
Poets––poem by Dorothy
Poets
Some got famous,
traveled,
signed books,
went on Youtube,
collected royalties,
got prizes.
They were good.
They deserved it.
They worked hard
for their fame.
Others worked in darkness,
shared with a few friends
and neighbors,
got talked about locally,
even written up by the
town newspaper.
They never got rich
from their offerings,
but thought of Emily,
Walt, William (whose wife
put an empty plate before him
to remind him that the
cupboard was bare).
Or Yeats with his one
good suit.
I could go on,
the list is endless.
But they did not mind.
Oh, well, they thought,
what does it matter?
How much did Mirabai charge?
Dorothy Walters
May 11, 2017
Some got famous,
traveled,
signed books,
went on Youtube,
collected royalties,
got prizes.
They were good.
They deserved it.
They worked hard
for their fame.
Others worked in darkness,
shared with a few friends
and neighbors,
got talked about locally,
even written up by the
town newspaper.
They never got rich
from their offerings,
but thought of Emily,
Walt, William (whose wife
put an empty plate before him
to remind him that the
cupboard was bare).
Or Yeats with his one
good suit.
I could go on,
the list is endless.
But they did not mind.
Oh, well, they thought,
what does it matter?
How much did Mirabai charge?
Dorothy Walters
May 11, 2017
