To Bridget and the class of June 2008

Golden-haired, welcome-mouthed
With reliability as of a steady gait.
Teach us, take us,
Up the by-ways of writing done.
School us, encourage us, jolly us along.

Here again, the six o’clock slot,
Once shockingly packed, next just a few.
Scribblers. Learners. Secret scribes.
Inspire us! Help us!
With humour bar none.

It’s coming. It’s Friday.
It’s ending. It’s born.
They named it!. We claimed it!
Then write-on, all.

The clock’s ticking. Did you notice?
Amazing. Time went.
I’m writing! Don’t stop me!
I may not, again.

Well - Sing it! Enjoy it. Morning-Page it! The End.
Savour it! Edit it. Extol it! And send.

You’re ‘in the soup’ now! Swim now.
Stretch now! Move on.
Feel the joy now! Your heart now!
What metaphor! What pun!

I’m going! (And) I’m writing.
A drink now! It’s done.

Victor Stevens, City Lit 2008