This collection will never feel complete. Perhaps because it is my first and one of a number of virginities I’ve lost in recent years. Maybe because I keep waiting for approval from The Impossibles, even after surrendering these paper planes to the winds of public opinion.
Have I given myself sufficient permission to play with these poems and to patch my wounded ship – with images – mid-voyage
Please let me be mid-voyage? So much I still want to do.
One of the things I love about writing, and poetry, in particular, is that it is both inspired by and part of my life – a snake eating itself.
Time for some barefoot guitar. Let me sing songs for all seasons in our cool backyard sandbox with you – my lovelies. Let’s watch bubbles, birds and planes until they disappear.
* The Captain is also a passenger (another snake eating itself )