On Tuesday I treated myself to a virtual writing marathon sponsored by the National Writing Project. #WriteAcrossAmerica. I showed up for the last stop on a journey across the country. I’m sorry I missed out on all the other stops. This last one was in New Orleans where the writing marathon originated.
Years ago I would spend some time each summer at the New Orleans Writing Marathon organized by the Southeastern Louisiana Writing Project. Three to four days of walking the French Quarter and writing led to lifelong friendships and a few memorable writing pieces.
Unfortunately, the virtual marathon happened in my own house through a screen, but because of the miracle of technology, I was able to connect with new friends and see some old ones. We had three writing sessions and shared in small break out rooms.
The third writing session led me to this poem, still quite drafty. I was just getting my writing muscle to work and the whole thing was over, not a marathon at all, but a quick 75 minute sprint.
Muses
Muses have a lost sense of time.
They live in the back of Napoleon’s Bar
drinking Pim’s Cups.I’ve asked them to visit me
here on the bayou steeped
in cafe au lait brown
buzzing with cicada song.They come in the long shadows
of a summer afternoon.
or in the fractal face
of a sunflower in bloom.Muses mock me
with their silver linings,
here then there,
then nowhere,
hiding in plain sight.Sometimes, I step on them
by mistake.Give me that mess
Margaret Simon, draft
again. My pen is waiting.
Reflections on the Teche 
I’m intrigued by the idea of a writing marathon. And I love what you wrote. And the photo. ❤ Ruth, thereisnosuchthingasagodforsakentown.blogspot.com
Beautiful. Margaret. I love your images, especially “the fractal face of a sunflower in bloom.”
A writing marathon! That’s new to me. Thanks for sharing your experience and poem with us. I love that ending. “Give me that mess!”
A writing marathon sounds delightful and the draft of the poem you came up with is a great product of your efforts. “Muses mock me” as well. ; )
I’m in awe of your energy for diving into all sorts of writing challenges. The results of this one are lovely and I’m especially fond of that third stanza and those ending lines. “Give me that mess!”
Such a spectacular picture! You live in a truly lovely place. I love that the muses have lost their sense of time.
I love the attitude in this poem. It feels like, “Margaret is back!” even though you haven’t gone anywhere. I can see you calling those muses right back here, this instant. Don’t give me any sass. Sit down and work with me. LOL! Sound wonderful. And, I envy your 75 minutes.
So let’s be real. It was our birthday day and the first session was interrupted by my mother in law bringing chocolate. The third session a friend dropped by with a card. I was so distracted that I got mad and then realized that was stupid. One of these days I’ll actually have 75 minutes. Ha! Hence, the attitude.
woza, Margaret ~~ doesn’t read drafty to me! shivers at the fractal face flower & “Sometimes I step on them by mistake.” And your photography is for a museum wall. Brava! xo
Oooh. So much to love about that ‘drafty mess’, Margaret – and especially that ending. Such warmth and space in that photo, too. Gorgeous post.
Feels very real to me, Margaret. What a great poem sharing your feelings after that “sprint”. I love your “drafty” words and “Sometimes, I step on them
by mistake.” There are many paths! Love the picture, too!
Me, too, with love for “the fractal face
of a sunflower in bloom”
LOVE your photo!!
Boy you can just taste this poem, and presence of a muse somewhere lurking off to the side… or behind one of the shadows in your enchanting image. Love the first few lines, it really draws you in and sets the scene. Yes, bring on that mess, thanks Margaret!
As ever, such a strong sense of place in this poem, Margaret! I think the muses sit on your shoulders:>)