DaBum

me at 3, I wrote a B

didn’t write a capital, mom said I should

I couldn’t, I didn’t

me at 5, I wrote my name in small letters

my kindergarten teacher hugged me, I smiled

I tried harder to write capitals

me at 6, my 1^st grade teacher said I was too much like my brother

which one I wondered?

it mattered.

Mom read to me: Seuss, Whittier, Kipling, Fields

and I imitated those poems from the little red books.

me at 7, a poet, a dreamer

wrote “My Dog” and published

The Works of Bumgarner

an ego is born

me at 10, aspiring author

4^th grade teacher acknowledged it

Validated me, inspired me, directed me

me at 13, author at last

first story in an anthology

“Flowers Are Forever”

Won a prize, a plaque, a self-esteem

me at 16, dark stories an emotional outlet

a destiny firmly in place

a story that Mrs. Breedlove called promising…

me over 50, projects renewed

ambition equal to the task of creation

the phoenix poised, the ideas a flutter

time to match the passion.