Arlene Angs Comments
Scrying sand is
probably the third, if not the fourth, poem I wrote using the same title...which,
in turn, was supposed to be the title
of a poetry collection Ive never finished writing. An obsessive gypsy in my
mind kept saying, No, no, no! Youve got it all wrong! Hopefully,
this time Ive got it right.
All five poems were written during a difficult time: faced with my fathers
terminal illness, I pushed myself to write every day with an online group of
poets to stay socially active and avoid brooding. I stared out
windows. I watched television violence. I picked at scabs around wounds. In
other words, the intermittent presence of flowers in my poems can be traced
back to guilt feelings towards plants that didnt last in my care.
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