The first poem

OK so I've decided to share the first poem which I wrote and received notable positive feedback in a creative writing class I took with Robert Bausch in the summer of 1996.  At the time I was 19 years old majoring in Chemistry.  We read my poem in class and I got good feedback from my classmates.  Aftewards we all went to a restaurant and "Bob" told me I was in the wrong major, that it should be poetry.  Now that I think about it, it may have been the beer talking - but I've always remembered and appreciated his feedback, and even though I didn't change my major, I think his comment at least partially inspired me to keep writing, creatively or not.  Even if very few people think it's good, care about it or read it. 

A few high school teachers' comments and words to me were also inspirational.  Ms. Turner, my high school AP English teacher; Ms. Zimmerman, my senior year GEMS teacher, and Madame Rose, my senior year French teacher.  They all seemed to see something in me that I didn't see in myself.  Ms. Zimmerman has since passed away and I regret not having the opportunity to tell her how much her words meant to me. 

So to Ms. Turner, Madame Rose and Bob - if by some off chance you ever read this, this one's for you.  Thank you.

leg freckles

I have four freckles on my legs.

Two on one.  Two on the other.
Connect the dots and form
almost perpendicular lines.
Almost mirror reflections.
I used to wish they were perfect
freckle-to-freckle prints.
Same browns.  Same sizes.
Symmetrical so if I were
split down the middle, I'd be
the same on both sides.
Making sense.
But now, I like them 'cause
they're imperfect.  A little
off-center, slightly askew,
a tad under- or over hue and
instead of reflecting each other,
they reflect me.
Pretty accurately.

Copyright Mary Beth Cox, 2011.  All rights reserved.