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I once was struggling with my own verse and I noticed a guidebook by Joyce Carole Oates. It seemed like kismet. I bought the book on some divine motivation. Writing for a lot of us is a talent worth hiding like words of a shadow. I never claimed that I was prolific or at least capable of greatness. I tend to read in private. Sometimes the idea surfaces like a slow wave building. I learn a lot from the masters of their craft.

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Does anyone know the poem that talks about old fashioned women's names like Mildred and Mabel and then lists a series of them? I would really like to find it for a friend whose mother, Mildred, has died. I think I heard it once on Prairie Home Companion, also on NPR. Thank you.

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