Welcome to my new subscribers and followers. Thank you so much for supporting my writing and poetry. I passed the three-month mark on Substack a couple of weeks ago. Substack was my foray back into social media after more than ten years off. I started it as a way to share more of my poetry. Substack is, in my opinion, what social media was perhaps originally meant to be—an online community. I love the connections I’ve made here and how each day it seems I discover another wonderful poet or writer.
News
Three of my poems appear in the first issue of World of Prompts Anthology published by Red Wolf Editions. It’s downloadable as a PDF and free, too.
I have a poem “Sweet Things” forthcoming in the August issue of the new journal Pictura. I’ll post a link when it’s out.
I’ll also be reading at Beast Crawl in Oakland on July 27, 2024. More details to follow for any local Bay Area folks.
And this week I received sample covers for my 2025 book Gathering the Pieces of Days. How exciting is that?
Spaces
“Spaces”1 came out of my solstice writing group. I don’t recall the prompt but I do remember the image that starts the poem. I had just flown into Dallas from California and was driving from the airport to my parents’ apartment with a full moon rising above the horizon. It was a difficult visit, probably within a year of his death. My mom was taking care of my dad and substitute teaching because they needed the money. I had decided to stay at a hotel to get some distance and they were not happy about that. Setting a boundary was seen as a betrayal.
I also wanted to post this poem because of the reference to the flag, being the 4th of July and all. Today, here in 2024, I wonder what might open if we all spent less time thinking about our countries and our borders and more time considering the earth we all live on and the sky we live under. Because we all live here on the same earth, on this planet, under this sky, and the earth needs our care.
Spaces My father fills the chair where he lives. What in a riddled brain does he know? My mother bends over the stove. I sit on the sofa—between them as always— my space to negotiate. My parents the walls I push against. Take this line, this poem, and write another. Another still. The flag is furled in my parents’ closet, filled with winter’s detritus of coats. Each year a new word to coax. Detritus. I want my words to melt—like chocolate I lick from foil-lined paper. I want home again, not this road blocked. My flag is the night’s sky and the moon rising orange above the horizon, what I see as an edge just a curve toward another day.
In keeping with my 4th of July non-theme, I will recommend two related substacks:
and . I discovered Substack through Letters from an American. I love how she puts the present in a historical context. It’s pretty much the first thing I read each morning. Thomas Singer’s substack is new. Tom is a Jungian analyst and writer who has spent decades exploring cultural complexes around the world. I’ve edited almost all his books so I know he knows what he’s talking about. Cultural complexes are the things that catch us as groups, countries, societies, religions, and races—sometimes conscious and sometimes not. As brings history to current events, brings a psychological lens to them.“Spaces” was published in Scribble, vol 7, no 3, 2009.
“My parents
the walls I push against.”
Wonderfully perceptive and descriptive line, LeeAnn!
Thanks Lee Ann. I look forward to reading these Sunday.