the voices in my head

I need a place to write by a window where

I can concentrate and not be disturbed by

the whistling wind

the whining telephone

my heartbeat

all the chores I haven’t done and never will.

I need a place to call my own

that is not my mother’s

or my brother’s

or the place I think my husband would wish it to be.

I need a time to start writing that feels right.

And writing that feels right.

Not this stuff here,

churned out of wedlock,

pausing for effect,

stumbling from one sound to another.

I need Annie Proulx and The Shipping News,

a new world of ships to explore,

a character that comes to life on his own

and I just have to write him in.  

I need space, a place, a face to start with.

Let’s start there.

A face. An old face? Yeah!

And a young one too. Young and old.

Cliché, here we go, say the voices in my head,

but I  don’t care, I won’t go there.

I #am writing.