Don't push for poems

I know this already. I told myself last night I wouldn't read, write, or stress out about poetry. There is a coat of ice outside cancelling everything. We are inside, Carrie is asleep, I made smoothies, and ended up reading Matthew Zapruder's Father's Day which led to four new poems. It is a relief, but I also second guess on if they really are going to be "good". This is all a part of the writing process.