the recurring dream

i keep having this recurring dream. i’m casually hanging out in a local coffee shop. i’m in my favorite overstuffed chair in a corner of the establishment. sunlight floods the window to my left cascading over my shoulder. as i stare out the window over my reading glasses hanging precariously on the tip of my nose, i look up from reading a literary magazine. after carefully reviewing all their submission guidelines, i consider submitting a couple of my poems. the prospect of being published maintains the garden of my optimism. after all, they consider every piece they receive. So as I turn to my big black binder, bursting with the poetry pieces I’ve written over the past 8 to 10 years, I whisper to myself, “send them your best work, Diane”. ten I realize that I have no idea what my best work is. nor do i have any way of finding out.Then the alarm clock goes off and I realize its time to get up.
 
 
Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: