I did the 'writing through' exercise Joanna Preston suggested for my poem yesterday. Today I tackled part two. The characters I created in my wee 'fairy tale' have taken on a life of their own. This is part of the woodman's story. As yet untitled. It could well go on to be part of a bigger story.
I'm found licking honey from the thorn
I woke rocking
in the vagabond's caravan
rescued from mad pursuit of the illustrious object
I have become all crepitous bone and walking shadow
with the knocking of wood peckers in my ears
a pilgrim searching for ancient fibers of her