Art or Artifice?

Now and then she wonders

What meaning to ascribe

To the format of these verses

As from her, they spring alive


No conscious preplanned notion

Gave rise to their creation

Crafted, as it happed

In thrid person denotation


Trials and tribulations

Spewed forth poetic tales

Journey through Inferno’s circles

Belches pen and ink wails


Of neither how nor why

She is today now certain

She wrote herself as “she”

Oz hiding behind a curtain?


Perhaps, when she began

She was hesitant to own

This experience, or expression

That lessened desire to moan


Elsewise, as amateur

She thought it less literary

To write as “I” or “me”

Or was she just contrary?


Once started, it continued

This mnemonic fiction

Creating useful distance ‘tween self

And life, full of friction


In moments, it appears

Her verses have held meaning

Appeal or universality

From comments she is gleaning


Sometimes now she ponders

What would happen if

She too that leap

Owned all of it


If she wrote as “I”

Blew away the screening mist

What might be lost or gained

In this endeavor toward art

Or is it artifice?

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