Poetry needs no explanation...

What to write? Do I post it?

Deer sightings have been regular lately, at significant times.
But then, aren't all times significant?

~*~

Hubby and I saw the deer family in the back yard this morning -- one of the adults and the two fawns. At times there have been two adults with the fawns. The fawns have grown the past few weeks. Their spots are less bright now. It's been fun to watch them frolic.

At the top of my recent deer-sighting-significances is a teenage deer, of whom I had the pleasure of her or his momentary company last week as she cantered beside me, to my right about three feet over and two feet in front. I was cycling on the paved part of the Greenway; she ran in the green grass.

Her cantering company probably lasted only 7 seconds, but it felt like 3 minutes. I like how time slows down in those moments. She then disappeared into the woods on the right side. As I cycled by where she had just entered the woods, I glanced into the woods over my right shoulder. There she was, peering out between brush and branch, her ears perked.  Our eyes met momentarily and I felt she was saying, "We're with you. We're watching out."

Earlier that Friday afternoon, I had finally spoken with the representative of the class-action law firm which will determine if my revision hip-recall surgery case is settlement-worthy. I say "finally," because we had previously, over the last couple weeks, connected only via voice mail. I felt "heard" after our voices finally connected in real time. Regardless of any possible future settlement, my surgery is a "go" and is set for August 31, less than three weeks away.

Oh...I just remembered -- along with the communion with the teenage deer at the Greenway that late afternoon, I had another significant sighting at the moment right before I heard the law firm representative's actual live voice through my cell phone. The deer family in the back yard appeared at that moment. Two fawns and a momma....
...
....
.....

~*~

And already, I'm burnt out on what I thought I was going to type....

Why do I do that? Burn out so quickly?

It seems to happen regularly these days.

Perhaps it's due to low energy and thus low creativity?

Or perhaps...I don't like typing all the details because it tires me out because I'd rather type metaphorically, or at least with less explanation?

Perhaps I'm just lazy.

Or perhaps, when I add details, I feel I'm entering the territory of trying to "explain" myself.
But, is that really so?

Am I trying to explain myself, to explain the motives behind my actions or thinking?

Or am I simply trying to make things clearer for the reader?
Which could mean I'm writing for the reader, instead of writing for writing's sake; instead of writing for art's sake; instead of writing for me, for Carol's sake.
And maybe that's what tires me.

I think it's true that I want to write less for others and write more for me.
I think instead of writing to be understood, I would rather write to express.

Of course, I do simply write and then go back and fill in details.
But I can't say I generally enjoy that process.
Except when it comes to poetry.
I seem to enjoy that honing process more with poetry.

Perhaps because poetry needs no explanation.