Tess Taylor

Article

Q. How does a poem begin for you?

A.
Sometimes as a title. Sometimes as a rhythm or set of phrases. Often these happen when I’m doing something else, like gardening, hiking or taking care of my baby, and a little phrase will spin around. I’ll jot something down and it will occur to me that it’s connected to something else. Right now I am writing this in front of a window where all morning a spider has been capturing a bee, in an elaborate undulating net. How impossible not to want to watch not only the spider but the mind attending to the spider, and then noticing that the mind has slipped elsewhere and the bee is eaten. Now the spider is gone. There’s something there, I’m sure, about how poetry gets made.

Source