
Practice Sheet
A torn piece of paper.
A few slaps of paint.
A turn of the brush.
A different brush.
A different color.
Just to see before you commit.
Sort of a mess.
Sort of art.
A story of a life lived
by too much trial and error
and a willingness to make mistakes.
A practice sheet.
I could pretend that is what it is,
but the truth is, most are.
Some work. Some do not.
That’s Ok. In the end it is the experiment that counts.
the willingness to fail
because the rare masterpiece
that finally leaks out,
almost by mistake,
is worth it.
About this poem.
It started out as a Father’s Day poem. Still is in a way. You raise them and wonder what took and what did not. They become something new and some of it was intentional. They will get more out of this than you will
Tom
Tom, Happy father’s day! You are one of the most beautiful people that I have met in life. I get so much out of your daily posts. I feel blessed that I have met you! Jim
You are too kind. I look forward to the next time we can get together.