It was fun back then thinking someday I would become a poet living from my poems. I dreamed of living on a few acres of land with a pond, canoe and a sweet wife. Has anyone reading this had these kind of thoughts? I had no idea of what poetry was other than it was short enough for me to learn to write. I went to the Louisville Public Library and spent days reading all the poetry books I could relate to. I checked out a dozen books to take home each week. I saturated myself with how these poets I admired wrote. This is how I learned to write. I sent poems to magazines. Most poems were not accepted but I began getting payments for poems after awhile mostly from religious magazines that liked my writing about love and relationships. I visited Nashville and met editors of the magazines buying my poetry. It was fun and exciting in those days. Somewhere along the way after publishing several poetry books things went downward. I lost interest but not sure why.
I never bought the land with a pond and never built a cabin. I’ve recently started writing poetry books again.
I wonder if it’s to late to revisit that dream I had when I was a teenager of sitting in a canoe and playing a guitar and singing songs of love under the moon?