Humans touch


I’ve done some math. I’ll touch at least 365 people with kindness this year. That’s a fact I can control. It’s doubtful my poetry will reach that many in 2019. At last count I had 73 poems out for submission. Today’s e-mail brought this news about five of my favorites:

“Thank you for sending us “Catherine Keefe Poetry for —” Although we appreciate your interest in—, we are unable to publish your work at this time….”

Blah, blah blah.

Time to #procrastibake.

365 Days of Kindness – Day 2
I saved the containers that held neighbors’ Christmas treat offerings. They’ve been stacked messily on the kitchen counter so I won’t forget to return them. After knocking tins and plastic tubs over for the third time this week, I decided to fill them with homemade granola and thank you notes. 


The baking and delivery took about an hour and a half away from my writing time, but my granola is really good so I figure I’m adding more benefit to the world with toasted oatmeal than words this week.

But I did also write a poem today because I promised myself to write a poem a day in January. These daily poems are drafts. Messy. Unrefined. But they’ll become something to mulch in spring. 

It was inspired by an encounter with a woman in the DC Metro restroom, just steps from that gorgeous James Reka mural I’m touching in the photo above. This lady was huge as the door, and filled the empty bathroom with such keen sound the while tile quaked. When we simultaneously said, You are beautiful, I knew I wanted to write her. The poem draft begins like this:

Awkward / Not Awkward Encounters with You

are beautiful as mirror to the twilight
woman in the DC Metro
L’Enfant Plaza restroom
singing Prince’s
Purple Rain lyrics
throwing her own back
beat pa-chhhhhed over her left
shoulder while washing her right hand and face
and feet in the sink…

With work, this poem might become as good as my granola. I‘ve practiced making both just about equally. You can find the recipe over on Backyard Sisters. The granola is easy to make, easy to give.

Be kind.

That’s me in front of James REKA’s mural at L’Enfant Plaza, Washington, D.C.