Of course this would happen

My blog becomes less a place to publish witty or intelligent gleanings on life and higher ed and more a venue to figure out myself. Bear with me.

I have a confession. I went back to Conway over the long weekend. I had fun drinking and dancing and being silly with the friends I left behind. I had fun masquerading as a Tim I used to relish being, but I realize now that I'm not that Tim, and that is probably not my place, at least not now. My trip put some things in perspective for me, but more negatively made moving on more difficult for me. So, I have decided (at least for now) that I can't go back for a good while.

In other news, I felt an over whelming sense of support in my poetry class tonight when my poem came up for critique. I received some great feedback and spent the night revising (Oh how I love revising!)

Here's a second draft:

A green glass star
etched with regal bars
and fleurs de lis
holds a votive that
shines by wick
through a glass sparsely casting
a sickish glow on the white wall
in this new room--
the fifth home in four years.

It is stable amid the clutter
of growing and moving and not knowing why
longing burns deep in the heart valve,
a vigil to something that is forever finished.

It becomes a monster with memories of homes
and selves
left in a hurry.


Any better?