“A watched pot never boils”

my grandmother used to say.

Truer words were never spoken.

A watched pot never boils…

A poem never writes itself…

not without great labor…

and waiting…

And then the words boil over…

from the heart

from mine, to another

who feels the same things.

A connection is made…

all because my heart

boiled over with words.

 

Eve Remillard

6/14/2015