Lonely Bird

I have been reading blogs for a few months now, some relgiously and it seems to all come back to what Laux said in the conference, that we are all calling out to each other and writing is one of the ways in which we do that.

My first poem in Pleiadas is due out in a few weeks which ironically says,

there always two searching in the night

one of the things I remember most about being a child is whipporwills and how my father would cupped his hands together and we would wait for that one bird looking, hearing and returning to us in the same lonely language.

There are some days when I feel like a poet and other days when I feel like anything but. I never read on blogs about how much writers struggle with writing and being a parent, and I wonder if they exist. I do sometimes wonder where the other birds might be.