Is it just the transition from summer to fall that makes me feel as if I’m swimming underwater? Rather, it’s too thick, too heavy, too opaque to be water, more like a bisque. Maybe it’s just that I’m no longer working on my novel every day. I’m waiting for more feedback before final edits. Maybe that’s it, the waiting.
I would like to start on a new novel, but I don’t have the idea for that yet. I was halfway through a flash piece, when my inspiration flew south.
I could be cleaning my house. I’m a dinosaur who still does fall and spring cleaning, and my mother and youngest sister are coming to visit in about a month. But I can’t get my mind in gear for that.
Suspended animation,
a deep daydream,
not quite here,
nowhere else,
not enough light,
on the edge of sleep,
I am
a yawn
a ho-hum
an ennui,
I am
listening.
And she can write poetry, too? Stop it. I’m as green as your swimming photo.
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Yeah, Tricia, who knew?
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I like the new photo.
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Thank you, Paul. It was the result of experimenting with the iPhone camera.
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Love the poem. And this phrase: Accidental poetry. Think I’ll strive for more of that. =)
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Thank you, Judy. And I think I’ll strive for more accidental writing in general because I overthink everything.
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Oh! Had to come back and tell you that I LOVE your new picture! =)
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