Small white whispers fall
From the concrete gray heavens
Winter earth listens
Yesterday’s snow was merely snow flurries. Now this morning is extreme cold only, down to ten with a wind chill below zero. The tea pot was extra friendly to see in the half light of a new day. This is a weekend of reading, cooking, writing, laundry, and restless sleep filled with faces of family long gone. It that inspiration stirring in my head? Or fear of the future? Or unresolved issues of the past? I no longer can explain anything!
The Ozark Writes Guild’s February meeting in Branson will work with a chunk of poetry related sessions. Walter Bargen, state poet laureate, will speak. Author Jan Morrill will do a session on haiku. There is so much going on during this meeting. Check out OWL at http://www.ozarkswritersleague.com/ or on Facebook.
Rat's Ass is an online poetry journal with attitude. The editor and I have been wrangling over words for six months. He both encourages and tries to change some of my work. I fight it in some cases. He has started a new issue called Ensuing Madness dealing with love-lust-sex and challenged me to try. I didn't think this was for me, but the next week I listened to OPT's Big Band Music and wrote. He took my lines. The issue is up now but warning: some of the poems are racy and raunchy. Some are just beautiful. You can read the poets alphabetically. I suggest Morning by James Fowler, Ripe by Karie Fugett, and Tangerine Fingernails by Kathyaran McChan, and War Baby by ME!