As a writer, I love coming across poems that both inspire and intimidate me. This morning I read “Fortune” by Charlie Smith. In it, the speaker describes travelling through northern Mexico with a lover who has just found out she is pregnant. Smith’s work with setting is rich and tight, and the speaker’s honesty in voicing his need to be alone moved me. Below are some verses, but you can read the entire piece on Poetry Foundation:

I didn’t want a child,
and I was tired of closeness, tired
of being kind, so was glad to be alone
a while and lay down under a jacaranda tree,
and watched through leaves the changing pattern
of the sky…
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