A new long poem coming up in bits and pieces: Long Song of the Unyoung

I’ve begun a whole book in loose verse about ageing, and I debated whether to post it on this blog (which, after all, is dedicated to my poems) or on my regular blog, Write Into Life. The other contender won, for two reasons:

  • because I want this book to be read like easy prose, and it may appeal to people who don’t usually read poetry
  • because Write Into Life uses a plan that permits audio files, and I want to read the poems aloud to you.

If you follow Write Into Life you’ll catch every piece of this read-aloud poem as I post it. I’ll keep posting poems here, but most of my energy goes into the book at present. I’ll be back, but for today’s poem, visit Write Into Life!


Photo of an unpruned Iceberg rose bush outside a Wellington cottage
The beauty of the unpruned poem or rose bush

Long Song of the Unyoung
is an unpruned rose bush
scrappy and vivid and wild.

I should have saved that insight
for the work in question
but I have squandered it on you.

Then again, unpruned bushes
do squander beauty
so squandering is perfectly in line

Photo and poem by Rachel McAlpine CC BY 2.0. That means, go ahead and share them both, as long as you attribute them to me.



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