The Elusive Palomino

You go, Girl! Or--boy!

As I was writing/editing and avoiding my laptop’s Internet connection in my bed office yesterday (see canny Zadie Smith quote from previous post), utilizing the sweet patch of me-as-writer time following leg-destroying yoga and before I was to pick my son up from preschool, I heard a familiar clopping and looked out my windows. There she was, ridden by a gentleman wearing a decorative sombrero and sparkly chaps. Perhaps they were practicing for an upcoming parade? I left my bed desk to watch them pass. Hello, beauty, I thought, entranced by the flowing, twitching blonde tail and mane, the sheen of waxed fruit from ears to withers to haunches, the coconut-clop of glossed-up hooves. A gorgeous creature. I envied her rider. A few moments of magic occurred as I watched them go by.

I have seen her before. And I have been trying for two years to finish a poem featuring her and incorporating history-bits involving this vast, strange, heated valley I live in. She reminded me to take another look at the poem, which reminded me I am in a POETRY READINGpardon me, I mean: Poetry reading in a few days, which sent me delving through my poems for things-to-read, which had me practicing reading as it’s been a while (and I’d rather listen to Yeats reading about the bee-loud glade ad nauseum rather than read in the dreaded Poet’s Voice), which had me perplexed as to when on earth I’m going to focus on my poetry again, unless I rise at 4:00a.m., pre my son’s 6:00a.m. waking (with all his little lights on–HI MAMA), which had me laughing a tad hysterically because I’m not getting up at 4:00a.m. unless it’s to let the dog out to pee, which reminded me I have some writing goals to meet, which for some reason had me anticipating the next episode of Modern Family, which had me back on the bed back at my desk writing/revising my children’s novel with renewed determination.

Thank you, palomino. I love you. And I promise I will finish your poem before Christmas (um, that would be Christmas 2011…).

About PB Rippey

7th generation Californian, thalassofile and writer living in the mountains near Los Angeles. I write fiction (contemporary women's), poetry, and middle grade eco-fiction. I'm an active member of SCBWI. Long live my mini-zoo of pets.
This entry was posted in Adult writing, Avoiding My Writing, books, Fiction, middle grade, Poetry, poetry reading, Quotes, Writer's Angst, Writing, Writing Progress and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

3 Responses to The Elusive Palomino

  1. Pingback: Deep Summer Checkpoint | PB Writes

  2. Great post today. I really enjoyed reading it very much. You have an excellent blog here. Thanks again for sharing.

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