I have thought long and hard before deciding to take this step. And the conclusion of my thought is that I have determined to try to share some of my own poetic endeavors from time to time. The poetry market seems mostly closed--I've tried time and again to break in, but other than little magazines, no one is really taking anything from any new voice. Or, perhaps, (and believe me this reality has hit home often) my poetry really doesn't deserve publication. That's hard for me to believe, particularly when I look at some of the stuff that does make its way into the paying market. Surely there is good stuff, and just as surely there is stuff that amounts to the emperor's new clothes. People have been told that it is good, and it is new, and that has been accepted. Whatever the reality, I humbly offer this poem for your delectation and delight (please keep any horror and repugnance to yourself--some things are best savored alone). And please pardon me if this seems too bold a step.
Completion: A Valediction
Steven Riddle
for Joyce MThe thousand paper cranes have been folded.
The day has come to set them to their flight.
As we pause to ponder, something like dread
threatens to consume us, as though we might
not be able to fold these birds again.
Our touch will be gone, the paper too coarse,
the folds too hard, our hearts too sad. But when
we think of our first efforts, and rehearse
our first completed crane, we see the hands
that guided us, feel their touch, and know that
they will show us how to shape and mold and
make new figures even at a distance. What
we thought would be the end, becomes the start
of even greater paper-folding art.c. 2002 Steven Riddle
