Grabbing some moments at the coffeeshop and combing through old computer files, felt like it was time to post a little something. So here, a poem about poems:
One Poet to Another
2/18/13 Julia Tindall Bloom
When I remark that my poems are not as good as yours
I am not denying their breathing reality.
They are real-live poems
I know, I was there at the birth of each and every one.
I am only admitting
That I love them too blindly
Keep them too close
To see them straight
And seeing the healthy bodies of yours
Functioning beautifully
Independent of your protection
I recognize my babies still have some growing to do
And so does my love.
Julia Bloom 
That, my friend, is a damn fine poem.
Aw, thanks! That means a lot coming from one of my high school English teachers đŸ™‚