like an osprey that cranes the necks of terrestrial errands with her skyrending cry, not held to the river by hunger, not anymore; choice and even whimsy ascendant, that, with flight, with distance, so the avid habit others, so the intricacies of doubt and delusion, so the calculations of how and why are uncoupled as a scattered alphabet, a jumbled box of crayons, ready for the configuration of her gaze, of her patterning, unpatterning, unbeholden and unfettered joy.
Departure Unbeholden Freedom it would seem, might involve the anima of a black dog, (its louche insouciance) and to be out of sight, or a mere speck, aloft, not like in the dream, but with real consequences, so where is she becomes who is she, with critics stumped and grumpy. Departure Unbeholden is her new thing, color unleashed as sound, grids of dimensions warped by her passage,
I'm a poet, writer, collage artist, & teacher living along the river in West County, doing my thing. This is a blog for my sixth round (and earlier rounds) of NaPoWriMo, with brand new, unedited poems & images daily, or as close to that as I can muster.. Leave a comment or two (but be gentle. These babies are newborn.)