My dream night

I haven’t gotten very far, or started, on my dream schedule, but ever since this morning I’ve been thinking about a dream night.

About a year ago, I’d been gathering images and lines for one of my fragment-collage poems when I heard about an upcoming deadline for a project I’d love to be part of. It’s not like the deadline was the next day, but for some reason I decided I wanted to finish the poem that night.

I sat down and started pulling it together. I started paring it back. My husband arrived home from work. I asked if we could order out. He said yes. I kept working–even with the TV on. I was focused! And I finished that poem.

Here’s a short bit of it:

Walking through ghosts,
their stories.

Wind with its own secrets
flinging its name on the cedars,

a flourish.

I’ve thought about that night all day today, hoping to step back into that kind of focus, to write all evening. I’m lucky that it’s my son’s night to cook (thank you!) and the cat has enough kibble to last through tomorrow. We’ll see. Maybe the poem about the witch, or the poem about the swan.

Meanwhile, my cat’s happy with a scrap of cardboard. So happy. So intent.

How do you focus? (That’s the part I’ve never gotten very good at?)

What are your good writing memories?