In any case, I am always making--with felt, floss, words. I make pictures. I make cupcakes, halloween costumes, this life. And I make poems. I sure would like to share them with you.
The pre-order period has begun, and the print run (how many copies the publisher will make) depends on the number of copies sold during this period. If you have interest in my poems, the very best and most helpful time to order the book would be during this period, which ends September 27. The book ships on November 23. Click here to order.
The book is "about" all kinds of girls--me, Annabelle, an assortment of acrobats, maybe you. It's about being a daughter, granddaughter, teenager, mother, lover, wife. Here's a little sample, a poem that's a kind of collage, made entirely of things Annabelle said when she was three. I hope you like it, friends.
--found poem with lines by Annabelle Crowe, age 3
My, how vanish
you look, said the red butterfly.
I’m falling and you’re falling,
and we are colored like a salmon’s other.
Is that a starling I see in your eye?
Is that a goldfish I see in your mouth?
I’m as big as a fish’s middle,
still as an apricot.
These are the only feet I have.
Oh moon, in your silver silk,
you lay eggs which are light-made.
My life hurts.
Hug me tight
every belly of the night
and please be brave
when the storm comes.