A New Mosaic of Me

If I were to draw, paint or sculpt

a mosaic of me, like my mom 

tried to do in her little man painting,

I’d probably fail miserably!

I did not inherit any 

of my mother's artistic talents, 

nor her gourmand way of cooking, 

thank goodness!

Neither did I develop any

Musical skills like 

my younger brother.

He taught himself the guitar! 

He also sailed across the 

Atlantic a few times!

I never got farther sailing 

in my own boat than Ensenada, Mexico!

I learned over many years of trying, 

that I could write, in English,

more common verbiage 

than intellectual jargon.

I guess I could write something in prose,

say in five volumes, similar to 

Carl Sandburg’s biography of Lincoln. 

But who would ever read it?

But, that’s most likely overkill

(or would it be called roadkill?)

on the flip side, I’m pretty sure 

I could write a short little three 

or four stanzas, (quatrains, to be sure) 

or whatever, concerning me,

in a round about way, see what I mean? 

Knowing that I can write words is certainly 

encouraging, even if it doesn't flow!

A poem mosaic’ing me may not be so

multi-colored or pretty as a flower,

but, reading it wouldn’t take an hour!

In summary, perhaps you’ve seen,

how easy it is to not picture me!

You've seen things I’m not, after all,

we may not be introduced until fall!