I think I will call her woman wrapped in a cashmere wool blanket on a painfully cold morning. She is fortunate to have a blanket. I add layers, but this doesn’t warm me up. Charlie and Suzi wonder why we aren’t staying out longer than an hour - they want the full experience. Today I heard back from the editor who had asked me for more poems a couple of days ago after I’d already sent five. Today he e-mailed me thanks for sending more and he’d have to think about it and let me know. Okay, I thought, it’s likely to take him weeks to get back to me to say how much he appreciated them, but he’d pass for now.
What happened instead was that he wrote me back in an hour accepting four of the five I’d originally sent. All but one are poems I’ve been working on for over a year; one of them for years. They’ve finally found a home and will be published soon.
Tonight, my cheese puff poem was well received in my group; jeez, the writing in the room was remarkable tonight – awesome. I’m grateful for the riches in this day of poetry. I wrap myself in my imaginary cashmere blanket, for sleeping and dreaming on a bed of blue ice.