failures in poetry

I am not sure what I hope for. I feel I am
doing my best. It reminds me of when I was
sixteen dreaming of Lorca, the gentle trees outside
and the creek. Perhaps poetry replaces something
in me that others receive more naturally.
Perhaps my happiness proves a weakness in my life.
Even my failures in poetry please me.

—Linda Gregg, from “The Letter,” Sacraments of Desire (Graywolf Press, 1991)

[n.b.: Linda Gregg born on September 9.]