Say what you will about Maya Angelou. Say she is a better poet than a memoir writer. Say that her prose is sometimes too flowery (I myself have been guilty of saying this); say that her poetry is too sing-song. Say whatever you like, and then tell me about the time that you were asked by a new president of a nation to read at his inauguration. I’m not saying I love every poem by every poet that I read, but in a world as arrogant as ours if you hear someone criticized (especially loudly) for being “too simplistic,” I would be willing to bet that the person being criticized is at the very least worth taking the time to investigate. Once you’ve given him or her a fair hearing, feel free to voice your own opinion, but please don’t prat on about what you’ve heard “experts” say. There is more to her resume than I realized, and you can check that out here.

This is one very simple poem of Angelou’s that just kicks me in the stomach with all that is not said, and how thoroughly it is not said. I apologize; I am really not the right person to read this one, I know. So I have chosen to focus more on the fun of it, rather than take it too seriously. I think Dr. Angelou would appreciate that. So forgive me in advance for a bit of silliness, but it’s silliness that was very well written.

Without further ado:

We are almost half-way through the thirty days of 2012’s National Poetry Month, and so far I have kept up with my reading a day commitment. I will probably do a very brief recap of what it is I am doing, for those who haven’t been in on it since day one. I hope you are enjoying this as much as I am.