All set up at the writing retreat. Even though it’s been a long day, I couldn’t not write, so I worked on my novel for an hour as the sun set, hiding the woods but not before I caught a glimpse of them. I’m tired but stoked to get an early start tomorrow. 

Tired but popping in long enough to say I’m delighted to have a poem, “Self-Rising,” included in the latest issue of Al Dente, a thoughtful and beautifully curated food journal produced by the University of Alabama. Their second issue, Our Roots, explores the quiet power of memory, tradition, and nourishment in all its forms. (And I love the issue’s innovative use of form.) 

Food, like poetry, can be an offering, something we prepare and share, hoping it will be tasted and maybe even remembered. “Self-Rising” is a reflection on that, and on the ways we keep creating, inviting, even when we don’t know who will come to the table.

I’m honored to be among the voices in this issue. If you have a moment between gatherings and gift-wrapping, you can read my poem here: https://arcg.is/0jTLqP0. (Scroll down after you read the fabulous first piece which mentions a Food Lion. If you haven’t been to the South, you might not know that it’s a grocery store chain. There used to be one a couple of miles from our home in Tennessee. My poem, btw, is the second down the page.) 

I wrote this poem in the summer, on the porch at the cafe that is now closed (again) for who knows how long. Yeah, they say two months, but they say a lot. 

Funny how some people remind you of food and you don’t exactly know why. Maybe it’s the nourishment. Funny how food can become poems and vice versa. 

Word Raccoon is curled up in a chair with a new stuffed writing buddy. She’s angry with me because I told her it’s too late for chocolate today. She made me set some out for tomorrow’s break. Ridiculous creature. God, I love her. 

She wants poetry, as usual, now, now, now. I’m thinking about giving it a go after this, but I just got her down, and it will rile her up. I need her to wake up early, ready to go. I’ve promised her oatmeal waffles for breakfast if she gets up without grousing. We’ll see what she can manage. 

Be warm and well, wherever the holidays find you.