Still Life by Katie Ford

Still Life

Down by the pond, addicts sleep on rocky grass half in water, half out, / and there the moon lights them / out of tawny silhouettes into the rarest / of amphibious flowers I once heard called striders,  / between, but needing, two worlds. / Of what can you accuse them now, beauty?

~ KATIE FORD

 

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I’m Here So My Own Head Won’t Kill Me

Hello out there!  Whee! I’m here on WordPress because as every writer knows writing can be is a lonely business.  Especially for an introvert like me.  And, even though the first reason (like I need a reason, for instance, to breath) I write is because I can’t not write, I’m also here because I write to be read.  And, I’m here to get better at all aspects of writing, including the discipline to sit my ass down and for-god’s-sake write. I can get a little weird from my self-imposed isolation.  I’m a divorced 57-year-old retired female with a few close friends (who are also on the introverted side), and a grown flew-the-coop son. I may go a couple of days without talking to anyone but the mailman and my cat.  I need other writers to “talk” to, a writing community.  You’re it. I want one of my poems in The New Yorker.  That’s also why I’m here. There, I said it. That’s my ultimate readership goal. Hey!  I have a plan, okay? That being said, I have to get around to writing a post about why I now refuse to read The New Yorker (the reason is socio-political). And I’m here to practice my writing, and get better.  For instance, I still struggle with semicolons; that fact makes me nuts. I’ve read how to use them, and the difference between them and colons and I still can’t get it.  At least on the one hand I feel so dense that it makes me laugh. I’m a writer trying to get better by writing, I don’t care how ungraceful I look while I’m doing it, and I need some help and some good company along the way.