Ok, so this drafting a poem everyday business is getting tough. The first few days went well but the last few days I've been struggling. I fell behind, but wrote three drafts yesterday all on a similar topic: a series I suppose. It's strange that I have three seperate ideas in play as I write.
1. I've begun what I hope will turn into a chapbook, there's a narrative idea floating around of a family set in Detroit in the time between the two great wars. There's a few poems towards this in my 30:30.
2. I'm also still struggling to write poems about my cancer experience. I always feel like no one will want to read about what it was like: it's too private, it's too personal, there is a limited audience. But isn't that audience an important one? Would it help if there were more poems in the world so we were less afraid of the challenges that lie ahead? There was no road map for me, perhaps I can put a few dots on the maps for others who (lamentably) must follow.
3. I have a poem about a girl murdered as a witch. A poem about women who are oppressed today. I don't know if this really qualifies as a theme yet.
And the semester ended. And the new semester looms. I am still tired, still have papers to mark with a red pen, and festive merrymaking to attend to.
I am thinking about the gifts I have been given. I do not want to squander them. Tonight I will pull out my flute and fill the house with carols.
A Joyful Noise.
Be blessed as you travel and spend time with your loved ones. Be blessed as you stay home and cook soup in the peace and quiet of aloneness. Be blessed on this holy evening and on the days and weeks to come. Be blessed.