Field Notes is exactly that, notes on memories, times of my life, taken down in poetic form. At times they can be profound, at least to myself, musings on life. Other times they can simply be moments captured while they are still fresh.
Most poets exist in obscurity. Fewer can eke out a living on their writing, mainly publishing in obscure journals, as filler for larger publishers, or at local bookstores and cafes that they have convinced to showcase them. Most of these first two hold second jobs. Fewer still can do more than subsist, and actually thrive upon their work. I doff my hat to the Yeats' and the Frost's, the Burn's, the Wordsworth's and the Keats' and what they have done. My heart still burns at simple reading of "The Wastelands," by T. S. Elliot. These are the true masters of the craft, and ones to which we can not hope to hold a candle to. True, many of them are from a different age, a time when poetry was more in-vogue, as it were, and one could actually make a decent living at the craft. Even then, many held other jobs or published longer written works.
I have chosen to include here the story "Author Meets a Squeet." This story was originally one of several that I sent out as Christmas gifts about writing and being an Author. Although technically not a poem, it holds to certain poetic devices so that I felt it justified in belonging here.
Field Notes is my entry into the world of poetry. Take from it what you will.
--from the Afterwards
