BrokenEchoes

I haven’t written much poetry over the past couple of weeks. I also haven’t sent in any new submissions. There isn’t anything major wrong, I’m just in the grip of a series of heavy grey days. Writing is hard when the fog sets in. Motivation slips. Words don’t come easily. I remind myself, though, that this will pass. It always does. Still, I hope it passes soon. Even in the grey stretches, I keep looking toward the work ahead. One project I’m excited about is a 25th anniversary edition of my very first collection, Broken Images . I’ll be correcting some lingering typos, creating a new cover, and adding updated front and back matter. Revisiting that early work sparks a strange nostalgia. I can scarcely remember writing some of these poems, and I can see how my voice has changed and grown over the years. Today’s spotlight poem is Cat Feet . It captures a quiet kind of moment, the kind that slips in unexpectedly and brings its own small peace. Cat Feet The soft bright morning Is mu...

  I’ve been thinking a lot about visibility lately. At times I feel both seen and unseen simultaneously. When I share my poetry, I’m visible. My words are honest, personal, and sometimes raw. I peel back layers I usually keep hidden in daily life. People who read my work see thoughts I don’t speak aloud. They see the vulnerable parts I often keep behind a calm, competent mask. And yet, I’m invisible. Not because I hide my writing, but because I’m still learning how to market it. In a crowded world of voices, mine hasn’t reached many ears. I can speak, but if no one is listening, the sound disappears before it’s truly heard. That’s the contradiction of showing your true self to the world while feeling like the world doesn’t notice. This week’s spotlight poem, Swampland , lives in that tension. It’s about being stuck somewhere in-between—between who I’ve been and who I hope to become, between the weight of the present and the pull of the future. Swampland Where I find myself no...