I wish it was mine - Poetry as Memoir

Some still hang
like ornaments,
bright and red
and shiny.

Others make like
polka dots, red on
green, beneath
the tree.

The ones that
fill the gutter
line up like bowling
balls in the automated
return.

Is it the imperfections,
or is it because they're not
already picked, in a bag,
or in a store?

I wish it was my apple tree.

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Poetry in memoir is a great way to tell a short story in as few words as possible.

There's no need to rhyme, or overthink the structure of verse of your poem. True some poems are set with strict rules and form, but there's also free verse and narrative poetry.

Writing in a different style or form may be liberating. Why not try it?

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