The Southern Minnesota Poets Society asked me to play for their Christmas luncheon, and it was a beautiful event. After the luncheon, the poets all recited winter poetry they'd written. I sat and listened in awe at the imagery, amazed at the talent in the group.
And then the ever-entertaining poet John Rezmerskigave us some insight into the poem
"'Twas the Night Before Christmas" by Clement Clarke Moore.
Did you know that Moore was responsible for naming the reindeer? Or that "laying his finger aside of his nose" is not a magical gesture but a signal of "this is our little secret?"
Neither did I.
Before I left, the poets made me an honorary member. I was, indeed, honored. I'm hoping I'll get over chickening out about reading my poetry in public as I attend the society's meetings. I'm also hoping I'll start writing more poetry all year, rather than just in the summer (the garden is so inspiring...)
We'll see if I can "chicken back in" as Rezmerski suggested.
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