Today is a new day and I’m feeling better. One of the good things about my mood swings is that they don’t last very long, especially when it comes to my work. Quit writing? Who am I kidding. I might as well quit thinking all together and that isn’t an option. I received another rejection letter yesterday afternoon, but there was a note urging me to send to this publication again, so that’s encouraging. Rejections don’t discourage me as much as they used to. It’s just part of the deal. At this point, I have nine publications and one contest to hear back from. I’m sure they’ll start rolling in relatively soon. Production on the spring issues will begin shortly, so content decisions need to be made (it’s useful having been on staff for a couple of journals). Tomorrow, I’m getting up early, working out and then heading somewhere to write. I don’t have anywhere to be until 2, so the morning is mine.
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Children in a Field
They don’t wade in so much as they are taken.
Deep in the day, in the deep of the field,
every current in the grasses whispers hurry
hurry, every yellow spreads its perfume
like a rumor, impelling them further on.
It is the way of girls. It is the sway
of their dresses in the summer trance-
light, their bare calves already far-gone
in green. What songs will they follow?
Whatever the wood warbles, whatever storm
or harm the border promises, whatever
calm. Let them go. Let them go traceless
through the high grass and into the willow-
blur, traceless across the lean blue glint
of the river, to the long dark bodies
of the conifers, and over the welcoming
threshold of nightfall.
Angela Shaw
Brianna Pike 