Oops, I missed a day again. It was a busy one. I went downtown early for Poetry Fest, which began at 10:30 AM. I went to a workshop on writing poetry and how to know when a poem is finished. After that, I went to listen to the keynote speaker. I caught the end of a presentation by Rhino Magazine, and then at 2:00 PM the Poetry Cram started. I was one of the readers for it and I had a small fan club. Two people from my poetry group, two people from our chorus and my Aunt all came. They all liked what I read. The Cram will be on WBEZ’s Chicago Amplified podcast. The coordinator of the Poetry Cram will let us know when it will be available for listening and I will post that here, so any of you who read this can hear me read my poem.
I was surprised that all of the women stayed for the entire Cram and did not leave as soon as they heard me in the first hour, but they were enjoying the poets and their poetry. The highlight for me was when a young man, who had been a gang member shared a poem addressed to God, confessing his sins and asking for God to forgive him and help him live a good life and to protect him. He was crying as he read it and had many of the audience crying too That was followed by a poem from someone who works with youth that have these kinds of problems telling us to look into their eyes and help them because they are victims. I don’t know if it was planned that way, or if it was something that the Holy Spirit directed, but it was very emotionally moving.
.After the Poetry Cram, which lasted till 4:15, my aunt, myself and one of the ladies from our chorus went to get something to eat. They had a good time sharing with each other about their husband’s wartime experiences, one in World War II and one in Viet Nam, even though they themselves are only a couple of years apart in age. Both of them are widows now.
When I got home, I did spend some time online, but I forgot about doing the blog. I was checking out e-mails I had on writing.com and commenting on some work. I also spent a lot of time in Word trying to get my draft of my pigeon story broken down into where I think the pages should be, so I can get it sent in to the ICL instructor. That’s Institute of Children’s Literature again, in case you did not remember, or are by chance reading this entry of my blog for the first time and have not read the previous days’ writings. By then I was tired. I believe I played one game of Scrabble online and then went to bed. I’ll save today’s events for tomorrow’s blog, which I will do in the morning.
IT'S NEVER TOO LATE! 
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