Published!

A BIG thank you to Dawn Pisturino for sharing this site and Kathy Keith “Wrangler in Chief” for publishing this piece. A response from her follows the poem.

HELP ME SEE
—Ernest Federspiel, Litchfield, MI

Where did all of the butterflies go, when in my
heart it began to snow.
Did the springtime joys all fade and die away,
when my heart started to turn cold and grey.
Was everything destined to remain dark blue,
just because I was no longer in love with you.
How did I let life become so harsh and stale?
Why did my mind become so weak and frail.
What can I do to have the sun shine back on me?
Please give me a clue to help me see.
My love of life didn’t really die,
but for the pain I forgot how to cry.
Springtime flowers are what I need to deep-breathe,
and bring the butterflies back to see.

Newcomer Ernest Federspiel writes that he is a retired poet—but there’s no such thing. Once a poet, always a poet, yes? Welcome to the Kitchen, Ernest, and don’t be a stranger!

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