{"id":87827,"date":"2021-06-26T09:50:48","date_gmt":"2021-06-26T13:50:48","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/?p=87827"},"modified":"2021-06-26T09:50:48","modified_gmt":"2021-06-26T13:50:48","slug":"hour-one-an-ending-2","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/2021\/06\/hour-one-an-ending-2\/","title":{"rendered":"Hour One, An Ending"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>Post Cursive<\/p>\n<p>My hand flows with ease across the page,<br \/>\nconnected rhythmic hills and valleys,<br \/>\na mountain chain on a page linking hand and mind<br \/>\nfrom this present day<br \/>\nat my kitchen table<br \/>\nin the middle of my life<br \/>\nto a childhood classroom,<br \/>\nchalk dust in my nostrils<br \/>\nand thick, lined tablets and a stubby pencil<br \/>\nin a blonde pony-tailed little girl&#8217;s splayed fingers,<br \/>\nnew tools awkwardly grasped while<br \/>\nfurtively licking the acrid, freshly sharpened tip,<br \/>\nthen scrawling for the first time the shapes<br \/>\nthat would later come to define me.<\/p>\n<p>Long years would pass,<br \/>\nyears splintered, flayed, and broken<br \/>\nby circumstance and randomly cruel tragedy<br \/>\nbeyond the child, girl, woman&#8217;s control,<br \/>\nbut<br \/>\nsmoothed, straightened, and sutured<br \/>\nby lines on a page,<br \/>\nflowing from mind to hand.<\/p>\n<p>I watch the fuzzy, near transparently blonde<br \/>\nhead of my grandson<br \/>\nbent over his work<br \/>\nat my kitchen table,<br \/>\nsmall splayed fingers grasping<br \/>\nhis black digital tablet,<br \/>\nimages, ideas, and thoughts of others<br \/>\ninserted between his mind and hand,<br \/>\nand I mourn a loss<br \/>\nhe does not yet feel.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Post Cursive My hand flows with ease across the page, connected rhythmic hills and valleys, a mountain chain on a page linking hand and mind from this present day at my kitchen table in the middle of my life to a childhood classroom, chalk dust&#8230;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":308,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[13],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-87827","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-miscellaneous"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/87827","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/308"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=87827"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/87827\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":88117,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/87827\/revisions\/88117"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=87827"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=87827"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=87827"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}