I am remembering all I have to be thankful for in an otherwise perfect world…which is to say, a very imperfect world & yet, & yet, here I am, in the harvest years, reading the poetry of women in their harvest years & anticipating a visit from my grown up kids, who are doing, at this time, nicely. Even last night, my daughter’s lost Corgi was found the night before Thanksgiving! Yes there have been many bumps in the road & yet & yet, I have always found this day, whose origins are also otherwise perfect, or not at all perfect (I am reminded of this watching PBS specials on how this nation came to be) I need to sit back, sip what, at this time, is good–even if that good are the gleanings.
What are your gleaning, what your small moments of yes? Do some of those moments come in the way of words, like me, to become poems?
We are starting to see signs of life at Quillsedge–the second contest is underway–thanks to Elliott the conspirator (conspire means to love) we are up and running in Submittable–where your entries will appear by magic out of ether. This year, I won’t have to deal with the endless pile of mailed manuscripts which last winter invite dust bunnies to graze my living room floor. But beautiful bunnies. As I am still in process of a long move, to be able to open a file to read your work is one of those thankful moments–Yes, Yes. The harvest delivered.
Our theme this year embodies what inhabits you/your poems. & because I am between homes right now it seems to suit me just fine as my body is my only real address at present–my dwelling place. So we look forward to learning about where you dwell, what inhabits.
Today I wish you all a way to find even one moment of peace & conspire with the harvest. & though I am hardly a technophile–upload it into your day, savor it with your veggies or turkey, your tangy, your tarts & your sweets & after this day of harvest–consider sharing with us the bounty of your words.
Happy day of harvest Jane & Elliott–& our growing board & activists, Jude & Anique!