I'm in!

Hi Winnie and one and all! I've been away from these halls, just started another of my creative writing workshop series and my latest group of writers is just spectacular as all that came before. We write together, including yours truly, of course -- wouldn't have it any other way. And it gives courage to my writing group members to see their "teacher" write with them and read brand-new writing. It is a mind-bending experience!

I'm grateful to be able to share.

Waiting for Spring

Frozen ground,
frozen heart –
The two are the same in the dead of February.
Blue cold,
black heart, and
no sign of solstice through the steely tentacles of sleeping trees.

It is high noon, but
the sun drags
on the edge of the world.
And a woman’s heart sinks just as low
when she hears the
hollow voice
in her head, spinning
round and round and round,
the needle stuck on one verb – run.

And her heart is so cold, it
recognizes its own breath.
The tracks in the snow outside
remind her of something –
a trip she needs to take.
But first,
will someone please strike a match?

Anna Chinappi 2005