Blowing the stars towards them…

December dreaming

I have no say in it, really, my draw to this poem. It is magnetic; instinctive; animal.

I love it, really in a bodily way, and I wrote about it a little in Cacophony Of Bone. The love I feel for it deepens at the very close of November each year; it is my most beloved Advent poem, and I dream about it very often this time of year (do other people dream about poems?…)

I imagine it might come up in conversation tonight when Nina McLaughlin and I launch Cacophony Of Bone in the US online at Point Reyes Book : book your free ticket here. Starting 8pm GMT / 12pm PT.

I had wanted to write about the books, poems, music and art I love for a long time, and I am so incredibly grateful to have been able to take quite a different path with my work though the writing of a book like this. What a thing to be supported though such transformation.

My second book is so different from my first and I feel so lucky my publishers in both the UK and US encouraged me towards creating something that felt so true and that I feel so proud of. It’s an odd thing to hear, right, a woman saying she is proud of something she has created. It is not something I ever in my whole life felt before about anything I had created before this book. I wonder, so much, what it is that has changed. Is it