haiku

How I Spent My Summer Vacation, Part One

 

"On reflection, what has raised me is not the truth but the road."  --Ko Un

 

UPS finally brought my iPod. 

Teresita Psalms: Saint of Cabora Texts

Lots of readers/fans and a few scholars have written to me over the past year asking for some insight into thde background of my novel, THE HUMMINGBIRD'S DAUGHTER. (And, I suppose, its sequel, coming next year from Little, Brown.) Although I do have piles and stacks and shelves full of rsearch, and I suspect the longest Teresita Urrea bibliography ever compiled, I don't think that's what people are after. People want stories. Some want revelations of spiritual secrets, some want adventure, some want writing tips and some just want to hear juicy yarns.

Midnight

We sleep.
Pale moths fondle
late summer window screens, paper
bark birch owl ignites
our bedroom with amber eye-gleam, bats
drop -- black leaves
from the tree of night, stranded
in her dark house, our neighbor
sips whiskey to feel warm
again.
We sleep.
Poems
are forever
awake.

Book club members have been some of my most enthusiastic and careful readers. I’m thrilled to share my work with you, answer your questions and tell you some of the stories behind the stories. This is our spot, just for us. Here, we can chat:  If I’m nearby, I’ll come and visit your club. Otherwise, we can Skype, talk over the phone or email. Sometimes, I’ll send surprises or hold contests.

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