an early snow this year
icy and hard, it woke me –
hissing and insistent
through the crack in the sill
the dogs both dig deeper
into my side, settle once more,
and sigh – little heart-furnaces
© Sarah Whiteley
The weather this year has been hard on the dogs and little Angus especially is feeling his age lately. But it’s amazing what comfort a dog can bring into a life – and I am blessed to have both of them for as long as I may.
My newest chapbook Wandering Wonderful is now available for pre-order from Finishing Line Press. Pre-orders through March 22nd will have an opportunity to win a canvas print of the cover art. Click for details!
In celebration of the publication of Wandering Wonderful, I’ve decided to offer a chance to win a 20″ x 30″ canvas print of the cover art shown above (sans title, etc.) to one lucky person.
How to enter? Simply pre-order a copy of the book by March 22nd via Finishing Line Press.
If you prefer to mail order, you can send a check or money order to: Finishing Line Press, PO Box 1626, Georgetown, KY 40325. The cost of the book is $14.99 + $2.99 for shipping. (Note that mail orders take longer to process than online orders.)
If you would like an autographed copy of the book, I can accept payments via PayPal (see my Available Books page). Include a message that you are pre-ordering Wandering Wonderful for inscription. The book will then be shipped to me for signing, and forwarded on to you at no additional shipping cost.
Finishing Line Press provides me with periodic sales updates and names will be drawn after the last sales update of the pre-order period end date. If you have already pre-ordered a copy of the book, never fear! Your name will also be entered into the drawing.
Thank you to everyone for your continued support. It’s because of wonderful readers and fellow writers like you that this blog has been in action for over 10 years.
With much love and respect,
How introverted poet/artists protest…
after a poem by Ono no Komachi
too soon the bloom
has slipped from the stem –
a light lost over the deepening
sill of evening
and back and forth,
the beads are slipped slowly
down the thread while I
wait with the rain
that absence hangs around,
a lone note held –
b-flat drifting long after
the tables have emptied
a blind man would have known
to find a way away from you
but fire makes us stupid
and before this space was vacant
it. was. on. fire.
things are so much clearer
when seen in d minor –
it’s a particular diminished
shade of the blues
but the show’s over even if
the smoke still lingers
and there’s no flyer even
to remember it by
but darlin’, there’s no
forgetting that heat
… when we’re not watching…
snippets from the past few days
the snowdrops have been stepped on by some unwary foot – they are closer now to mud than to sky – but the crocus persists and the daffodils are showing their greening tips
I had to side-step several puddles of blood on the sidewalk outside the office one morning while the police tried to tape them off – a man stabbed apparently kept right on walking – I felt like I could relate
I wake most mornings at 2 AM with my heart thrumming like a sparrow trapped in a 50 gallon drum – and it is the strangest sensation to feel empty except for the beating of frantic wings – on lucky days, that goes away
Knock-Knock has learned a new vocalization that somewhat approximates a soft bark, not unlike what Freyja sounds like when she calls the crows – I am intrigued and pleased by this
Coyote has been extra amorous with his mate, and in another few months, I will hopefully have a new blue-eyed fledgling or two that he will let me photograph
I briefly met someone at the office whom I strongly suspect is a very shy, closeted smart-ass – this makes me want to invite him to coffee so that we can enjoy the comfort of being smart-asses in like company
three gin & tonics and eight pieces of sushi with raucous friends is better than hours of therapy; a peaceful hour spent painting is just as good