There. I Am.

It appears to be 10 months since I submitted anything to Vocal. In fact apart from the odd short one off, it's that time since I wrote. Time, headspace, exhaustion etc etc, however I have change my life direction considerably, have rested as much as possible (no trust find here!) so gently getting myself back into the swing with Found Poetry, one of my favourite forms of poetry, and will make myself accountable be publishing it here. Instead of holding myself to one a day it's going to be one a week. If more happen so be it but I am incredibly good at setting myself up to fail...

This poem is entitled 'There. I Am.' and is taken from 12 random pages of Shirley Jackson's 'The Bird Nest'. Then line 12 and then the first 8 words. It then was just a matter of editing. It felt like a Prose Poem right from the beginning. 'The Bird's Nest' is a study of a woman's mental health issues so it felt like the right book to relaunch myself with.

There. I Am.

Aunt Morgan took up the brandy and they began to walk. Sat down with relief next to a woman. Silently I passed her my notes cut with nails and tried hard to think. Less sense, more clear-sighted recognition.