Welcome To Women Writing for (a) Change Up North

Welcome to Women Writing for (a) Change Up North. To learn more about us, go to www.womenwritingupnorth.com. We offer writing retreats that provide a safe place for women to tell their stories. If you are a woman in the Grand Traverse/Leelenau/Charlevoix/Petoskey area who journals, writes fiction, poetry, non-fiction or plays, Women Writing for (a) Change could be for you!

What do we do? We gather to share writing, inspire one another and listen to one another's words. We celebrate writing and women's stories. All of this is done in a safe, non-threatening environment that is perfect for new and experienced writers alike.

I will be offering weekend writing retreats in November, 2007 and January 2008.

In additon, this month, my first collection of poetry is being published by Woven Word Books. Unfinished and other poems will be available in Horizon Books, Borders in Traverse City, on Amazon.com and through my website by June 1, 2007.

Here is the title poem, Unfinished.

Unfinished

Melancholy descends like a mother-in-law
arriving unannounced,
peeking through all your cupboards,
in all your most private corners,
until you throw your hands up in disgust,
leave your bagel on the plate
unfinished,
crawl beneath the covers to hide
from the obvious transparency
of all your flaws.

The painting sits,
only pinks and mauves daubed on the canvas,
as you forget
where you put the keys to your life.
One stanza of a poem moans with loneliness,
a one-sleeved sweater sits,
knitting needles akimbo.
The linen closet’s contents strewn
in the hallway attest to the fog,
descended
as you were matching striped pillowcases to sheets,
watermelon washcloths to their cousins the bath towels.

All the while, she lurks, reading your mail,
commandeering your haunts,
until there is just a tiny slice of you left,
peeping through the keyhole,
watching instead of living.

Then one day, fed up, you decide to throw her out,
summon the courage to tell her it is time.
You make the plane reservations yourself,

and when she is finally gone,
you batten down the hatches,
watching the midnight lift,
sunshine melt through the house,
buttery and rich,
alighting on that morning’s bagel.

Unfinished
on its blue willow plate.

You sit alone and begin to eat again.


I hope you like the poem and will buy the book for more.

Again, Welcome to Women Writing Up North