I'm standing on the corner of Hope and Faith;
Just waiting for Love to come my way.
I thought I caught a glimpse of it
But it turned on Frightened Street,
And picked up a safer passenger.
Published by The Woman for their poetry page in December of 1976.
I remember where I was when I wrote it, but I can't get inside that young woman's head. Who was she? Would she like me, the person she became? I don't think so. And I can say with certainty, I wouldn't like her.
On second thought, maybe I would like her. She was a writer. She wrote a lot more than I do today. In spite of her social life, she produced short stories, essays, poetry, nonfiction, and kept them in the mail. She liked to say she was practicing the Shotgun Method of Submission: "shoot 'em out there and something's gonna hit." She's the one who garnered all the rejection slips filed away in my blue folder. Where would I be without her? She's the one who learned how to write, whose experiences I draw on.
Sure, she got distracted. A lot. But, she never gave up.
I'm the one who gave up. I turned on Frightened Street.