In which our heroine experiences a minor setback

July 7th, 2009

One step forward, one step sideways. The first of the month, my poems in ouroboros. The fourth of the month, a rejection letter. It’s how it goes, I know. I’m still learning, I know. It doesn’t necessarily mean the poems are bad, I know, just that this particular journal passed on them. I know. It still smarts though. Even with a little hand-written note from the editor, it still smarts. It still gives power to that little voice in my head, the one that says, maybe I’m not that good. Maybe this isn’t going to happen. Maybe it’s not meant to happen.

But it is what I want. More than that, it is what I do. This is what I do. Put a moment on paper. Find, somehow, a word for the way it feels to walk down the street with my little boy’s fingers wrapped around my index finger while he licks at a cherry dangling from his other hand. A word for the cherry, fresh from the Seeland. A word for the stone that I bite out of the fruit so the Boychen doesn’t choke on it. A word for the pie I am going to make later. A word for the way the last bite of pie tastes, the last pie from the last cherries of the season. Find, somehow, a word.

So first I will be disappointed. Then I will find the word. And put it on the paper.