This past weekend I fellowshipped with poets and writers of the Southern Appalachian Writers' Cooperative (SAWC for short) at the Highlander Center in New Market, Tennessee. It was a fantastic time of socializing, reading work, and workshopping our writing, and, of course, swarping. We had about 12 or so people there, smaller than last year's group, but had some wonderful new members attend for the first time (I hope to see you guys, er, gals again Jenny, Jennifer, and Susan, at next year's gathering, or sooner). Unlike other poetry workshops I have been to, the small atmosphere and camaraderie to me tends to foster a trusting, relaxing, and fun. In my 12 years of writing I've discovered in me a regional, Appalachian voice that feels at home with this loosely knit group of writers and varlets. I've been going almost every year since 1999, and until the group is overrun by terrorists (or Republicans) they will always be considered my family of writers.
I also took a scenic drive to Tennessee via the Blue Ridge Parkway and the Smoky Mountains. I took some great pictures at Graveyard Fields in which the fall colors seemed to pop out of the landscape, seen here. These photos hardly represent how they actually looked, though. Even though it was cloudy, the oranges, reds, and yellows shined like sunlight.
Also, at Jennifer's request this weekend, I have posted below one of the poems I read this past Saturday, "Grandma's Kitchen." If you don't like the poem, you can blame her (ha ha).