In a world gone mad with terrible news, I received a bit of happy news this past week. My poem, "When the Gunman Comes" , has been nominated for a Rhysling Award. I feel astonished, slightly embarrassed, and deeply grateful to the kind soul (whoever you are) who did this lovely thing for me and my poem. The poem, first published in Mythic Delirium Magazine by the generous Mike Allen , is an exploration of my anxieties about gun violence in America. I still feel close to the sentiments reflected there. To learn more about the Rhysling Award, click here . Thank you all, again, for your support.
Showing posts from January, 2017
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Hello sweet friends, I hope this post finds you well and journeying into the new year with relative ease. I'm feeling okay, though I admit I'm still deeply troubled by the headlines. I'm doing my best to keep my gaze fixed on action, beauty, and art, but I can sense Panic prowling nearby, a hungry old cat. Not that I would deny my fear. I think she just needs to settle by the fire instead of attacking my feet, if you know what I mean. In more cheerful news, this morning, as I paused in the garden near my children's school, I noticed a definite shift in the air. The birds must have noticed it too because they were out in abundance, chattering and clamouring away in the green cedars and barren oaks. Winter is still with us, but a long, slow thaw is beginning to relax the land. The ground is softening. The wind is not quite as sharp. The ice is melting. As my little corner of the world slowly transforms over the comi